Blood Lust
by JLynnB
Summary: Time is running out for Vicki, Celluci and Henry as the Vampire Killer is back in Toronto-or is it?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This takes place one year after my first story, A Question of Want.**

**In terms of canon, this story is after Blood Lines.**

XxX

Prologue:

After what seemed an eternity his lips left hers and he smiled. Breath trembling as she opened her eyes Cindy looked at this man, this wonderful man and couldn't thank Providence enough for bringing him to her.

"Let's get out of here before the king's guard find us," he said lightly.

Almost as if on cue Cindy heard loud voices at the end of the hall. Her handsome savior grasped her hand and quickly led her from the room and up the spiraling stone staircase. Racing down the corridor they knocked down a servant girl and forced two more to press themselves against the wall. As they took a left turn it became immediately obvious that they should have kept going straight as only a short length of hall with several doors lay before them. The sounds of armor-clad men neared so there was no turning back. Cindy tried door after door, finding all save the last locked. Again thanking Providence, both she and her lover forced the door open and rushed to close it even as the guards spotted their movement and followed in pursuit.

While Cindy locked the door her handsome savior advanced through the room and out to the balcony. As soon as he had passed the threshold a glass wall separated him from the room and his love. Horrified, he slapped his palms in frustration against the crystal prison. Hearing the guards at the door, Cindy bit her lip as she looked around the room. She spotted a chair in the corner and brought it to the glass but the barrier held as the chair was reduced to splinters. The knocking and pounding became more intense as shouts and hollers seemed to slide under the door and fill the chamber. Desperate, she went to a free standing candle holder and dragged it to the balcony entrance. Swinging it back and forth until her momentum allowed her to raise it high enough Cindy gave a yell and smashed it against the barrier. In an instant the glass shattered and she was free! Her lover extended his hand and after gathering hers he led her to the edge of the balcony.

"We'll have to jump into the river. It's the only way," he said quickly.

Cindy looked down and nearly fainted. The river seemed but a tiny line from this height.

"Trust me," he breathed against her cheek. Eyes filled with love, he took her into his arms and gave her a heart-felt kiss.

When they parted he winked and took her hand. As the door behind them splintered open Cindy held up her arms to the wind and stepped off the balcony with her lover into the welcoming arms of the water below.

Only as she neared the ground did she hear the laughter.

XxX

One:

Since it seemed more and more likely that he was going to let the alarm ring Vicki took it upon herself to reach across Celluci's body and shut the damn thing off before it drove her nuts. Her fingers slapped blindly on the buttons in a desperate attempt to silence the machine but to no avail. Frustrated, Vicki grabbed the clock and ripped its plug from the wall as she launched it across the room. She rolled off Celluci back to her place on the bed.

"Feel better?" he mumbled.

"Next time get your own damn alarm," Vicki muttered as she dug her elbow into his back.

Celluci rolled over and stretched, his six foot four frame easily covering the bed. "Good morning to you, too."

Vicki slid in close to his body and planted a firm kiss on his lips. "Shower's now or you lose your place in cue."

Returning the kiss with more enthusiasm, Celluci traced the side of her jaw with his calloused fingers. Vicki ran her hand down his body and it was all he could do not to moan into her mouth. With one smooth motion his long arms coiled around Vicki as he slid her prone form beneath him.

"This better not be because you want the bathroom first," he whispered into her ear.

Vicki's laughter turned into a squeal of delight.

Vicki spent the morning tidying her apartment before her potential clients came to call. As her second bedroom functioned as her private investigator's office it was important to remove last night's Chinese takeout and bottle of wine from the coffee table and make the living room couch look as though two people hadn't made out on it. She hated to admit it to herself but she was feeling pretty happy with how things were going at the moment. After Henry's 'death' and reappearance relations between her and Celluci were almost at their darkest. He felt as though she was spending too much time with Henry; of course, Henry wasn't making this any easier since it was within his nature to exploit any advantage. In fact, it would be fair to say that both men had become almost uber possessive of her as if it was their intention to make her choose. Vicki snorted at the thought—make anyone choose which arm they want to keep or which ventricle they want removed and they'd call you insane. Celluci and Henry were her fire and ice. Besides, things did eventually fall back into their old patterns so the idea of having her choose could take a seat next to the kung po chicken scraps in the trash.

Looking over her note pad, Vicki went over what little information she had about the case. Apparently Cindy Matheson had committed suicide four days ago at York University and her parents felt that the school was more interested in hushing up the matter than investigating what went wrong. Vicki had fished out the Wednesday newspaper from the recycling box in order to read the article on the girl's death. This had not been a good year for the university as this was the second suicide in four months. The first girl, Janice Goldman, had died in November and there was speculation that Cindy's death could be a copycat. _Not a time to play 'follow the leader',_ Vicki thought.

At two-fifteen Vicki heard a knock at the door and opened it to receive the somber-looking Mathesons. They both assured her that they didn't want anything to drink so they all settled quickly in the office. Fortunately for Vicki years of police training had prepared her in dealing with delicate situations, particularly when it involved a death of a loved one. She assumed a face of attentiveness with a hint of sympathy and asked what she could do for the grieving couple.

"We were hoping that you could find out what was going on in her life prior to her—passing," said Mr. Matheson.

Vicki folded her hands on the desk. "As this was a suicide I'd just like to go over a few questions. It'll give me a place to start my inquiry, should this warrant one." She knew that sometimes what grieving parents wanted was someone to lay out and organize what had happened so they could truly understand the situation. "How old was your daughter?"

"Twenty," Mrs. Matheson said quietly.

"And how long had she been studying at the university?"

"This was her third year. She studied English and creative writing. She would have graduated next year." Mr. Matheson gave Vicki a matter of fact look that attempted to reflect itself in his voice.

"Ok. Now, has Cindy ever had a history of depression?" Vicki knew this was a loaded question. The last thing the survivors of a suicide wanted to admit was that they'd missed the signs.

Mrs. Matheson frowned at her husband. "They always ask the _same_ thing." Mr. Matheson tried to put a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder but she shrugged it off. "Cindy is—was—a wonderfully happy baby who grew into a bright, confident young woman. The only seriously down time I can remember is when her Nana died when she was fourteen but she came through that in about six months. They were very close as they both liked writing and literature." Mrs. Matheson seemingly became lost in thought before recovering. "Cindy was a joy. That's why none of this makes sense."

"Although she was looking thinner than usual this year," Mr. Matheson remarked.

"That's just the campus food. You know how she'd complain about the lack of vegetables," Mrs. Matheson snapped back.

Vicki looked from husband to wife and began picking her words carefully. It seemed as though Mr. Matheson had some relevant details but getting them past his wife would be like driving a hummer through a minefield. "Well, even if it is a food issue it still is a change. When did you notice the weight loss? Were there any other differences—no matter how minor—in her physically or emotionally?" She stared meaningfully at Mr. Matheson.

"Cindy was fine when she left in September. We saw her at Thanksgiving and she was all aglow with her classes and seeing her friends again. It was when she came home for Christmas that I noticed a change." Mr. Matheson looked at his wife before continuing. "She looked tired. Dark circles under the eyes, wane pallor—and she was visibly thinner. Brenda asked if there was anything wrong but she said it was nothing."

"I thought she was working too hard," Mrs. Matheson whispered. "I told her to take the holidays to rest."

"At first she seemed to improve. Her brother came home from Western University along with her friend Helena and they all hung out with their friends." Again Mr. Matheson glanced at his wife but she was staring fixedly ahead. "Then Cindy started sleeping in—at first until ten o'clock, then eleven, noon. One day we had gone out to do some shopping and we got home at three-thirty to find her still in bed. Yet the crazy thing was the more she slept the worse she looked. I asked Brenda if we should take her to a doctor but Cindy assured us she was fine. She was up late working on her writing project—a novel I think—and the strange schedule was playing havoc on her system."

Vicki finished writing and looked up. "Since Christmas had you seen or been in contact with her? If so, how did she seem?"

"She was fine," said Mrs. Matheson, who waved her husband to keep quiet. "She sounded tired but otherwise she was in good spirits. Cindy didn't mention anything about a tiff with her friends or bombing a class or meeting a boy." Brenda Matheson stared at Vicki with reddened eyes. "She called me two days before she—two days to say that her book was going well and her papers were almost finished. Not that she was down. _Not_ that she was suicidal or trying to say goodbye."

"Maybe there were things going on we didn't know about. The university is giving us sympathy but little answers. We need them if we're ever going to…." Mr. Matheson looked away from Vicki.

Closing her notebook, Vicki straightened in her chair as she spoke. "I think I can find you some answers. Closure doesn't come in a day but it can't come at all without knowing what happened."

Vicki opened the window in her living room after the Mathesons left in order to air out the cloud of depression from the apartment. She decided not to charge them for the initial investigation. If time ran long—which she doubted it would—she'd put something nominal together but otherwise this case was adding up to good karma. After what the Mathesons went through a little goodness would be a small mercy.


	2. Chapter 2

Mike Celluci swore to himself as the police constable repeated the story of the lone witness to the homicide. Unfortunately, the man was drunk; even more unfortunate was that Celluci couldn't dismiss his claim that the killer had vaulted over the eight foot chain link fence after dropping the victim to the ground. _What the hell happened to all the human criminals?_ Since coming into contact with Henry Fitzroy, romance writer, Celluci had come face to face with demons, werewolves and a four thousand year old mummy. _Perhaps like attracts like_. Fitzroy wasn't normal in his own right as he looked to be in his mid-twenties—quite a feat for someone who just celebrated his four hundred and seventy second birthday.

Looking around the alleyway while the coroner assessed the body Celluci noted the killer's choice of location was isolated from the main drag although not so out of the way that he couldn't quickly lose himself in the bar crowd on Richmond Street. There was no blood on or in the vicinity of the body. Moreover the victim's purse was still there so this was definitely not a robbery gone wrong. He looked at the fence and the officers scanning the ground on the other side for signs of the killer. They wouldn't find any. That'd be too simple and any case that brought Fitzroy to mind was anything but simple.

"Detective," said the coroner as she stood up. Celluci walked over to join her. "Our victim is Veronica Lewis, twenty-two. There doesn't appear to be any discernable signs of a struggle and from the way the body is positioned it's like the killer lowered her gently to the ground rather than out and out dropped her. There's no sign of blunt force trauma or obvious penetrating wound—although I'll examine her neck more thoroughly at the lab. From her pallor I'm guesstimating she's like the Sullivan girl—bloodless."

"Terrific," Celluci muttered although he was not surprised with the findings. "Two drained bodies. This should be interesting trying to keep this under wraps."

"Especially after the first string of bodies three years ago. Guess our serial killer's back in town." The coroner opened her notebook and wrote a few more lines.

"I thought coroners weren't supposed to jump to conclusions?"

She looked on as the technicians placed the victim in a body bag, her electric blue hair having been tucked away from the zipper as it closed. "Anyone who could drain a body so thoroughly in a ridiculously short amount of time without spilling a drop is truly once in a lifetime."

Celluci snorted. Off the top of his head he could name Fitzroy and Norman's demon as proficient bloodsuckers in their own right. "That'll be the day things pile neatly into my basket," he said as explanation to his reaction. The coroner nodded and followed the body to the van.

The problem was Celluci _knew_ that the murders were unrelated. Norman's demon was responsible for the first set and with the kid's demise so ended the killings. Explaining that to his lieutenant would result in a trip to the police psych department so he had to pretend that the current killings were related. What would be important to his unofficial investigation was to note the differences between the murders.

Chantal Sullivan, twenty, was found in nearly an identical setting—just off the club strip—and had been murdered sometime after two a.m.. The coroner found a single puncture wound in the left jugular, a wound that seemed too small to evacuate volumes of blood in seconds. In contrast Norman's demon ripped the throats of its victims though it managed to do so without leaving any trace of blood on the ground. Knowing how the police mind worked, Celluci figured the investigation would chalk up the differences as the killer having refined his technique.

He growled as he worked his jaw. There wasn't much to go on and if he was to catch this thing he'd need more information. Perhaps it was human stubbornness that made him keep silent about the circumstances surrounding the first murder. Maybe he wanted to prove to himself that he could handle something supernatural without Vicki and without _him_. And at the end of the day that was the point: Celluci didn't want Fitzroy involved. He didn't like feeling inferior to the bastard prince who was smug enough about his chances with Vicki against his human rival. Unfortunately, only Fitzroy could possibly tell him what the creature was and how to deal with it.

_Terrific_.

After looking over his notes Celluci flagged down a constable and had him round up the witness. After a few minutes she returned with a man in his thirties who dressed to fit the part of the Richmond Street crowd. While he could smell alcohol Celluci noted no sign of drunkenness in the man's eyes. Murder has a way of sobering a person up.

"So Carl, according to the constable you were in the ally sometime after two-twenty to relieve yourself, is that correct?" asked Celluci.

"Yeah. I just left The Underground and was on my way home when I had to, um, stop." Carl Jansen ran his hand nervously through his hair. It had already been a tough night. The crime technicians had swabbed his hands and run a black light over his clothing; the police had in no uncertain terms invited him to the prescient in order to 'assist' in the investigation.

"Tell me what you saw. Try to be as specific as possible, Carl. Right now you're the only one we can place in the ally."

Carl swallowed as he wracked his brain. If he didn't get this right he had the sinking feeling he'd need a lawyer. "I had finished, y'know, and as I turned I saw this guy kissing a woman."

Celluci put up his hand. "Just a second. What did he look like?"

"He was about six feet. He had a moustache. His hair was either black or dark brown. Actually, you ever see one of those Errol Flynn movies? He kind of looked like that. Except for his clothes, of course. He was wearing all black: leather or pvc pants, long shirt, big boots." Carl's brows knit. "That's about all, I think."

"Ok, you saw him. Then what?"

"I thought it was kind of gross that he was lowering her to the ground as this isn't exactly the most hygienic place." Again he ran his hand through his hair. "I wouldn't have thought more about it except it was how her arm fell. I thought maybe she had passed out because it just hung there. Then I thought maybe this guy was going to rape her or something. I called out 'Hey' but he didn't stop until she was on the ground. He looked at her for a bit then looked up at me." Carl paused then shivered.

"What did he do next?" Celluci coaxed.

"He just stared. I don't know how long. Ten seconds? Thirty? Then he turned, took three steps and leaped over the fence." As one Carl and Celluci looked at the eight foot fence. "I'm serious man! I'm not making it up. My jaw nearly hit the ground when he did that. He landed on his feet and walked off like he just stepped off the curb."

Celluci closed his notebook. "How much had you been drinking this evening?"

"Not enough to make something like this up. This has to be the lamest alibi ever." Carl's shoulders slacked, dejected.

"Don't worry about it. Just keep your story straight and let the forensics do their work. If you're innocent you've nothing to worry about. Actually, as a quick question, were you in Toronto three years ago?"

Carl shook his head. "Transferred from Vancouver eighteen months ago."

"Well then you definitely don't have anything to worry about. Let the constable take you to the prescient and we'll try to get this over with as quickly as possible." Carl and the constable made their way to the squad car.

The earlier killings had nothing to do with this one but if Celluci could use the old ones to clear Carl he would. The man looked and sounded legit to him. Besides, it all came down to the blood loss. Nothing human could drain a body so thoroughly without spilling a drop in a dark ally way. Perhaps another vampire had come to town. Only this one wasn't as concerned about leaving his victims alive. He involuntarily shuddered at the thought of Fitzroy with Vicki. One slip and she'd be as dead as these girls. Remembering how easily Fitzroy had ripped open the door at the CN Tower Celluci realized there wasn't much he could do about it—at night. Daytime was another matter entirely. He hoped the killer had the same vulnerability.

XxX

When Mrs. Matheson offered to take Vicki to the student residence she jumped at the chance to interview the last people to see Cindy. The university had concluded its investigation and had released the contents of Cindy's room to her family. Vicki didn't think they had brought enough bins but it'd be hard to criticize a woman for being unprepared in dealing with her daughter's suicide.

After seeing where Cindy's room was located Vicki found the common room by way of trial and error. Four people were in the room although the tv was off.

She cleared her throat. "Excuse me I'm Vicki Nelson, a private detective who's working for the Matheson family. Cindy Matheson was the girl who had—died—a few days ago. I was hoping you could tell me who witnessed what happened?"

"You want the floor dons and us," said a young woman with a blunt bob cut. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything and anything about her final moments. It makes no sense to the family that she killed herself. I'm trying to figure out if this was drug-related or a missed case of depression, etcetera." Vicki smiled sympathetically. She had to make things more verbose than normal in order to keep the kids calm and in a mood to parlay information without becoming suspicious.

"I'm Rick," said a tall man with dreadlocks and an Australian accent. "It was absolutely messed. We were all watching tv—Maeve, Peter, Cindy and myself—when Cindy fell asleep I guess. About fifteen or twenty minutes later she started making these, um, moaning noises."

Vicki raised her forehead. "'Moaning?'"

"Like orgasm one oh one," Maeve clarified. "At first we thought it was funny but after a bit she was getting louder and louder and we didn't want her to embarrass herself any more than she already had. Peter was sitting next to her and he tapped her on the shoulder but she didn't wake up. He then shook her but nothing happened. Not only did she not wake up but her moans continued. I guess that's what brought Chris the floor don to the scene. He tried to wake her up but couldn't. He asked us if she'd taken anything but none of us saw her pop pills so we said no."

"She's too straight up for that. I offered her pot one day and she turned me down," Peter remarked.

Rick smirked. "No Pete, she turned _you_ down." He looked at Vicki. "We smoked up a couple of times but it's not like she was a major user or anything. Besides pot doesn't make you suddenly spring up like you'd gotten an electrical jolt. From sound asleep to on her feet in a blink she said 'Get away from me' and bolted from the room. We followed Chris out the door and down the hall. Cindy ran up the stairs to the eleventh floor and, well you know."

"You guys think you could walk me through it? " Vicki said as she closed her notebook.

"I've got class in fifteen minutes," Rick said apologetically.

Peter looked at Maeve, who nodded. "We're game."

They walked past the floor don's apartment towards the west staircase and ascend to the next floor.

"She went straight down the hall and ran into a girl about here," said Peter who stood in front of an open door.

"You mean Courtney." A girl came to the doorway. "Do we have to reenact this again?" she asked as she spiked her short brown hair with her fingers.

"I'm a private investigator for Cindy's family. Just trying to understand what happened," explained Vicki.

The girl appraised Vicki before shrugging. "Julie and I were on our way to the washroom when we heard a commotion behind us. We turned and saw Cindy literally run over Courtney. I always thought that was a figure of speech but now I know it can happen. After that Julie and I flattened ourselves against the wall so we wouldn't be next and Cindy raced by us and turned left."

"Did she say anything?" Vicki asked.

"No. She was too busy running and looking over her shoulder to say anything."

Vicki bit her lip. "Ok, how did she _look_, and by look I mean both emotionally and physically."

Leaning against the doorframe the girl collected her thoughts before answering. "Cindy looked terrified, especially at the group chasing her." She nodded towards Peter and Maeve. "The only thing kind of odd was how she ran. Her right hand was clenched into a fist and she ran with her arm swinging stiffly at her side. Kind of like she was holding something, y'know? Anyways, the next thing I saw were these guys racing down the hall after her."

Vicki thanked the girl and followed Peter and Maeve as they turned left into a little corridor.

"We came around the corner and Cindy was in the room at the end of the hall. She closed and locked the door before we got there. Chris started pounding on the door for her to let us in but she didn't," Peter related.

"Don't forget the girl from the washroom," piped in Maeve. "She was all, '_hey, that's my room!'_ Then we heard furniture being tossed around the room and then a big crash as the window broke, I guess. As Chris and Rick got the door open they saw her jump out the window, arms out to the side like she was flying. Rick said he thought Cindy had heard our shouts as she had turned her head to the right and had a smile on her face. But that didn't stop her from jumping." Maeve sighed. "Chris is a real mess."

"You guys have been a real help," Vicki said as they walked back down to the tenth floor. "Make sure if you or someone you know is having problems dealing with this that you get help, ok?" Peter and Maeve agreed and left for the common room as Vicki made her way to Cindy's room.

Apparently Mrs. Matheson wasn't the only one packing as a young woman with strawberry blond hair and a dancer's build was taking down posters from the wall opposite Cindy's furnishings. "Mrs. Matheson's getting more bins. You're Vicki, right? I'm Patricia, Cindy's roommate."

"Nice to meet you," Vicki started. "I hope you won't mind answering a few questions?"

Patricia laughed. "After the counselors, administration, friends and gawkers what's one more round of Cindy up close and personal?"

Vicki sat on Cindy's bed and pulled out a notebook from her purse. "I talked with Mr. Matheson and he said that Cindy had dropped a lot of weight and appeared tired when he saw her at Christmas."

"Yeah, I noticed the same. From the start she was a 'school equals business' go-getter but November was particularly bad with her not being able to get out of bed some days. She thought she had mono or something but the doctor said she was fine. Well, as fine as someone can be who slept like the dead and ate even less."

"How did she sleep? Rick said that Cindy was having a nightmare or something before she killed herself."

Patricia sat on her bed and looked out the window. "I don't think I'd call them nightmares, no." She blushed. "If anything the dreams sounded quite sexual in nature. I'd been woken up several times by particularly loud moans. At first people thought that maybe we were lesbian since they saw no boys enter the room and yet heard all the late-night action."

Vicki frowned. "So she had no boyfriend?"

"As far as was publicly known although from her dreams and how she acted—butterflies in her stomach and a kind of glow you get when you're in love, y'know?—I thought she had to be seeing someone on the side. Maybe she met someone at poetry night?"

"Where's that?"

"In the Annex. Carlos? Carlius? Something like that. It's on the west side of Honest Ed's. I was there once but it wasn't my thing." Patricia shrugged and stood. She made space for another box on the bed. "Too dark in lighting and vibe if you know what I mean."

Vicki nodded as she got up and looked over Cindy's bookshelves. It seemed that the girl preferred writing on paper given the amount of journals although she did have a lap top. Vicki picked a journal at random and skimmed through it. The book had chapter headings 'Six', 'Seven' and 'Eight'. _This must be the novel her father said she was working on._ Rubbing the back of her neck as she scanned Cindy's half of the room Vicki wondered where she kept her private journal. A girl who wrote this much had to have one or at least a book of rough ideas. _Before I tear this place apart let's do the Playboy special_. Vicki lifted the mattress to reveal a black covered journal. She skimmed though it and this one seemed more like individual entries rather than a writing project. She put it into her purse and straightened the mattress.

Chewing the side of her cheek as she looked at the floor around Cindy's desk Vicki hoped that Mrs. Matheson hadn't already taken her backpack to the car. Fortunately the bag sat where it was thrown last. She opened the flap with its Emily the Strange embroidery and was rewarded with two journals and a copy of Ondaatje's _The Collected Works of Billy the Kid_. The journals contained jotted points, rough notes and ideas. More importantly it contained poetry and a few lines in quotation so Vicki thought these the books likely brought to the poetry readings. She wanted to go through these to see if there was a phone number or a name scrawled since the best bet for this mysterious boyfriend—if he existed at all—lay at poetry night downtown. At the very least Vicki hoped she could get more of a feel for the girl's state of mind.

XxX

**Author's Note**: Where's Henry? Well I guess that's why there's a Chapter Three!


	3. Chapter 3

Henry Fitzroy parked his car and proceeded to walk the block and a half towards the crime scene. After disappearing into another dimension with a blood-sucking demon Henry cursed himself for having left his car in the parking lot of a warehouse where a security guard had been killed. Fortunately Vicki had taken care of things and had Tony move the car safely back to its underground parking space. Henry winced in remembrance as he waited for the pedestrian light to change. Too many vampires took chances that got them killed by way of a fanatical hunter or an ill thought out sanctuary from the sun. Through trial and error he had learned to live on the side of caution and it was this tendency he credited for his longevity. Then Vicki came along and everything changed. In the last few years he had become involved with more humans than he had in the previous centuries combined. As it stood three people knew what he really was and that was three people too many according to his rules. Of course, Vicki was never one to follow the rules and this tendency seemed to be rubbing off on Henry.

It was a far cry from romance writer to undercover sleuth but Henry made the transition with ease as he nonchalantly walked from the sidewalk into the alleyway. He didn't sense anyone in the darkened passage—murder sites had a way of attracting or repelling people and he thanked _Jesu_ it was the latter. Celluci assured him that the police weren't staking out the place for the killer's return so he knew he had the alley to himself. The Detective also gave him a photo of the crime scene but it wasn't necessary. Henry had smelled death in many forms over the centuries so it was easy to pick out where the body had fallen. A noise to his left snapped his head where he saw an alley cat weave its way through the trash and around the corner. While he chided himself for being so jumpy he couldn't help but acknowledge how _alive_ he felt. Every nerve was firing simultaneously as his predatory instincts and senses permeated the alley in search of clues instead of prey.

As he neared the body dump his nose crinkled at the smell of something sickeningly sweet—almost to the point of being vile. Henry covered his mouth and nose with the fabric of his black leather trench coat and peered at the ground for signs of blood. Finding none and unable to smell blood in the air thanks to the sweet odor he retreated to the far end of the alley so he could breathe and think about what he had, or in this case hadn't seen. The lack of blood was troubling: it gave Henry a sense of déjà vu when he scoured the streets for the rogue vampire which turned out to be Norman's demon. Already the police department was comparing these latest victims with the ones from three years ago and that was bad news for Henry. The city went into vampire hysteria as people protected themselves from 'creatures of the night'—two men going so far as murdering a night nurse because she was never seen during the day.

Henry plucked the side of his cheek in thought as he stared at the eight foot fence at the other end of the alley. This demon—for he had no doubt it was a demon given its stench—drained its victim then hopped over the fence and turned the corner to exit the alley. He held his breath as he walked towards the fence and with a flex of muscles lithely vaulted over the barrier and landed lightly on the other side. _'Demon my ass,' Celluci would say at this point._ The Detective would compare the physical attributes in an attempt to get a rise out of Henry but would not seriously consider him a suspect. While he might not like Henry for having a relationship with Vicki he was too honorable a man to make something up. Of course, Celluci's basic decency made it difficult for Henry to remove the man from Vicki's life as easily as he could.

Giving his head a little shake as he sighed, Henry refocused on the saccharine scent and walked out of the alley. Turning right, the smell led him down the sidewalk until he hit York Street where it crossed the intersection and proceeded northwards. The night air did wonders for Henry's senses since it dissipated the sweet odor to a tolerable level. While other metropolitans never slept Toronto was not one of them as Henry walked quietly up to Queen Street and made his way to the downward staircase at Osgoode subway. Knowing that his search would be in vain once the creature boarded a train he hoped he could at least pinpoint whether it went in a north or south direction. He was therefore quite surprised to lose the demon's scent about five steps from the bottom of the stairs. Frowning, he walked back towards the steps and the sweet stench returned. As a pair of teenagers walked down the hall towards him Henry pulled out his phone and pretended he was texting while in reality he was scouring the ground for any sign of dimensional scorching indicating that it had teleported. Finding none, Henry stood still in thought before making his way up the stairs towards his car.

XxX

Knowing that Cindy's personal journal was going to be more than a skim job Vicki changed into her pajamas—a YMCA t-shirt and sweat pants—and settled down in the easy chair with a warm mug of decaf coffee. The other two journals turned out to be a scrub; while they contained poetic lines in quotation and several ideas of her own Cindy never wrote so much as a description of another person much less a phone number. Hoping that the personal journal would be more forthcoming Vicki took a deep breath and began reading.

After the first fifteen pages she put the book face down on the table and took a good swig of coffee. Teenage angst was never her thing: after her father left she had to grow up in a hurry so had little time for playing with friends much less writing journals. As far as she could tell Cindy seemed to be an average girl with a higher than average writing vocabulary. She was excited about school, seeing her friends and continuing her novel. On the extra curricular front Cindy was no stranger on pub night and went to weekly poetry readings at Carlosios. Vicki leaned over and grabbed the phone book from the magazine stand and looked up the bar. Located just west of the Annex off Bloor Street it was in familiar territory for Vicki who had been there several times to visit a sorcerer when she was trying to rescue Henry from another dimension.

Taking a big gulp of coffee, she put down the mug and resumed reading. Forty-five minutes later Vicki again set the book aside. Deciding that cold decaf was not the way to go she went to the kitchen and made herself a fresh cup. On her way back to the chair Vicki deviated into her office and picked up a pen and pad of paper. She had finally read about a man in Cindy's life but she hoped he wasn't the only man or else things just got a lot more complicated given that he was a character in a dream. At first Cindy made a minor reference to a dashing Robin Hood-like man but as the journal entries continued he appeared more frequently. The more Vicki read the more her jaw dropped as Cindy's lurid details about her chivalrous paramour grew more graphic in detail until they took on the air of pornography. _Eat your heart out Elizabeth Fitzroy_.

Unfortunately, there was no mention of a real guy in Cindy's life so Vicki was back to square one. As for her dream guy Cindy got to the point where he visited her every night. Perhaps this indicated a psychotic break? Or these dreams had nothing to do with anything, the girl was a great loss to the pornography industry and it was nearly two-thirty in the morning and Vicki's brain was too tired to come up with a proper connection. She arched her back as she stretched, feeling the little _kapow_ in between the third and forth vertebrae. Thinking back on those passages Vicki wondered if her body was even capable of performing some of the maneuvers detailed in the journal. She smirked as she thought of Henry: with the right bed partner she'd be more than willing to give them a try.

XxX

At the university, Vicki followed a student into Vanier residence and rode the elevator to the tenth floor. As she hadn't woken with an epiphany about Cindy's mystery man she thought a trip back to the residence could help put the journal into context with the girl's real life surroundings. Hoping against hope she went to the common room but there was no sign of Maeve, Peter or Rick. However she did see that the floor don's door was open and she took that as an invitation. She rapped on the door and was greeted by a blond-haired young man wearing a 'Born This Way' t-shirt and fat jeans.

"Excuse me, are you Chris?" Vicki asked.

He smiled. "That's me. Can I help you?"

"I'm Vicki Nelson. The Matheson's hired me to look into the circumstances behind Cindy's death." At this Chris' face took on a somber look. "I'm sorry you had to see something like this."

"Thanks." The most he'd put up with in the two years as don were roommate blowups, drinking and pot use. Nothing prepared him for this.

"Especially since I gather this wasn't the first suicide this year?" Vicki pressed.

"No. A girl at Winters residence killed herself in the bathroom in the Fall." Here he bit his lip. "I met Billie at the toga party during frosh week. She was hard to miss with a Ninja Turtle quilt wrapped around a Superman toga."

Vicki asked where the residence was and was directed to the second brown building on the left upon exiting Vanier residence. She thanked him for his time and made her way to the elevator.

Winters was an original residence and stood a meager four stories as compared to its modern cohorts. Almost too easily Vicki made her way into the building: she held the door open for a student carrying a guitar and amplifier and followed him in. In the foyer there was a makeshift memorial for the girl. Vicki looked at the drawings, dried flowers, little notes and prayers for the family. In the glass case were six framed poems. Apparently Billie was also a writer.

The first poem made Vicki shiver as it spoke of the finite life of a snowflake. How prophetic given the circumstances of Billie's death. It was the forth poem that got Vicki's attention, however. It spoke of life and death embodied in a man's form. How unintentionally seductive he was in his movements while his eyes flashed his desire for something far beyond a simple touch. Vicki felt a little warm as she read further, again thinking of Henry. _Duh. Hello Vicki._ She realized that this was the second time she'd brought Henry to mind after reading a particularly steamy passage. Leaning against the glass to get closer to the writing Vicki read and reread the poem. Poetry being what it was she didn't get a solid description like Cindy's dream guy in her journal but there were hints: paleness of skin, dark hair, encompassing eyes and a heightened sense of sexuality.

"She's good, huh?"

Startled, Vicki turned to see a girl with several facial piercings and spiky brown hair. "Yeah, uh, that forth poem is quite something."

The girl smiled sadly. "That was the piece de resistance of her character study. She has oodles of poems on her 'death-lover' as she called him. I used to tease her that it was a vampire but she said no—he was all man."

"With her being into poetry I wonder if she went out to Carlosios to read?"

"Actually she did. There are a couple of places to jam or listen. Billie and her friends would do their thing there before coming to Kensington to hear me play."

Vicki smiled sympathetically. "I hope you will continue the tradition."

"Oh we do. We have to. It's the only thing about this whole mess that makes sense, y'know?"

Vicki nodded as the girl excused herself and went to class. She pulled out her phone and took a picture of Billie's framed photograph and several pictures of the poem until she got one without a glare from the glass. She squinted but couldn't see the writing in the phone's window so she had to hope that it was in focus. Retinitis pigmentosa had robbed her of twenty-five percent of her peripheral and all of her night vision but that did not mean her remaining vision was great.

As she exited the building her fingers scrolled down her phone until she found the number she wanted.

"Henry it's Vicki. Hope you like poetry."


	4. Chapter 4

As he opened the door Henry's nose was assaulted by the sweet stench of his demon from the night before. Although the scent was not fresh there was enough of it to indicate that it was a frequent visitor to the establishment. Henry'd have to mention this later to Celluci. As for the bar itself it seemed to be in two parts: a typical layout complete with long counter and stools was on the right and a set of stairs straight ahead leading upwards. Henry winced as he ascended, listening to an agonizing assault on the English language delivered by what sounded like a young man. As he entered the room his suspicion was confirmed as he saw a late teen-early twenties man with a goatee and lip piercing lamenting his existence to all that would hear. _No one can angst like the young_. Suddenly Henry thought about his relationship with Vicki and by proxy Celluci. He shrugged off the idea he was melodramatic.

Standing at the door until the poet finished, Henry looked for Vicki and smiled as he shook his head. Since she was at the poetry bar for at least two hours he'd expected her to be nestled between black-clad bodies. Instead she had a table to herself and an expression on her face like she was trying very hard not to vomit. It was a full three seconds before the bar realized the poet was finished and responded with a polite clap. Henry slid his way unnoticed to the table as his black t-shirt, jeans and fitted leather jacket made him blend into the scene; quite unlike Vicki who was the only one wearing a white top and, he saw as he approached, shorts. He cleared his throat as he sat next to Vicki as he knew she couldn't see him in the poor lighting.

"What did I miss?" he whispered.

"Besides nearly two hours of raging angst, nothing," Vicki scowled. She would have been in a better mood if she had gotten the answers she wanted earlier in the evening. Before the poetry reading she passed around pictures of the two deceased York students. "No one could positively identify the first girl but someone thought they saw Cindy here over the past few months."

Henry nodded. "I take it nothing on the mysterious paramour?"

Vicki spread her hands as she looked around the bar. "I dare you to point out one guy who _isn't_ wearing black and trying desperately hard to pick up a chick."

"Well to be fair, I'm not trying to pick you up," Henry responded while trying to suppress a smile. It was indeed amusing watching the males try to muster up the allure of Mystery that Henry exuded by his very nature as a vampire.

"More to the point I know you exist. I have no idea whether this supposed boyfriend of the dead is even real." Vicki sighed as another would-be poet began his tirade on the human condition.

"The night wasn't a total waste. At least I know the being Celluci seeks hangs out at the bar," Henry murmured.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Vicki growled. Something was up and she hated not being in the know.

"Celluci asked me to use my particular talents at a crime scene last night," Henry replied softly.

"I thought you said you were Dr. Watson, not Sherlock?" Vicki responded. She didn't notice the annoyed look of a couple sitting to her left.

Henry sensed he was in dangerous territory. As a rule _Vicki_ was the private detective and _Henry_ was the romance writer. Obviously she was not impressed with his sudden attempt at role-reversal. "The Detective thought it best I look over the case since it shares a similarity with two of our previous hell-bent cases."

"Gee, thanks for letting me know," Vicki snapped. The woman next to her frowned but said nothing.

"I thought he'd talk it over with you," Henry said simply.

"We do a lot more than talk you know." Vicki paused. "Oh wait, that sounds crass."

Henry's jaw muscles tightened. "I get the meaning regardless," he said dryly.

The crowd broke into applause and Vicki took this as a sign to exit as quickly as she could. Taking Henry's arm until they came to the stairs she grabbed the railing and made her way downward and out the door.

"Thank Christ it's over," Vicki sighed. Henry gently slipped his arm through hers and led her down the sidewalk towards his car. "Can't tell me the troubadours were as bad as all that."

"Not the ones that made a living—or kept their heads. Just kidding," Henry smirked.

"I wouldn't have blinked twice if you weren't. That was positively vile in there," she said as she opened the passenger door of the BMW. Henry immediately crossed over to the other side. He'd once made the mistake of closing the door for Vicki when she wasn't in the mood to be, in her words, 'coddled'. While there were a lot of things Henry was glad to have left in the past good manners were not one of them.

As the car turned right onto Bloor Street Henry wondered how many seconds it would take Vicki to bring up his case.

"Ok spill it, Sherlock. What's up with Celluci?"

_Twenty seconds. This has to be a record of some sort._ "A young lady was found murdered in the club district. She was drained of blood."

"Damn. Vampire or something else?"

"Something else. It's a demon of some sort—" here Vicki groaned "—though I've no idea what kind. Unlike Norman's pet this one seems to be acting on its own behalf. Interestingly enough it left a witness to the crime."

Vicki frowned. "That's a first. Either it was sloppy or didn't care."

"The latter," Henry said as he right signaled onto Spadina towards Chinatown. "It rather nonchalantly hopped an eight foot fence and walked away."

"So how did Celluci keep this under wraps or is the witness at the Clarke Institute loony bin at the moment?"

"Oh it looked human enough: black clothing and a swashbuckling debonair to boot." Henry turned onto a side street and pulled into a parking space.

Vicki was thoughtful as she got out of the car and let Henry lead her to the door of her building. "That describes the patrons at the poetry night. Well except for the inherent smoothness. You did say you smelled the demon at the bar, right?"

"Maybe a week old at the most." He held the door open for Vicki and followed behind. Neither had asked if he was going to spend the night at her place. It was a given. Therefore it was with great annoyance that he heard the sound of a heartbeat emanating from her apartment since it could only be one person. "You have company," he said flatly.

With clenched jaw Vicki opened her apartment and was greeted by the smell of instant coffee. She walked into the living room to find Celluci flipping through the Toronto Star.

"Time Hortons gone out of business?" Vicki asked dryly.

"Trust me this coffee's no threat to the franchise," Celluci snorted.

Henry stepped out from behind Vicki. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Detective?" His tone was pleasant enough but there was something to his stance that Celluci found hostile. _Tough_.

"Actually I was waiting for you, Fitzroy. I followed up on the victim's wear-abouts over the last twenty four hours. It seems that she was an out and abouter like the first victim but was an artsy type overall." Celluci took a sip of his coffee.

"That's all fascinating but surely this could have waited until tomorrow?" said Henry icily. Celluci _knew_ he only had the night with Vicki and even then he had to share every other night with the mortal. As a vampire and prince there was only so much he would put up with until the matter came to its inevitable conclusion. For there was no doubt in Henry's mind that Vicki would side with him; now if only he could convince Vicki of the same truth he would be light years ahead.

"Homicides thrive in the first forty eight hours, Fitzroy. She was a regular at the Bovine Sex Club on Queen Street and as that's a stone's throw away I thought what the hell and popped in."

"What the hell, indeed," Henry muttered.

"Learn anything else about the victim?" Vicki asked as she plopped her purse on the couch.

Celluci took another gulp of coffee and put the mug on the table. "She made clothes for a local gothic clothing shop although her boyfriend said her real love was for writing children's books." Vicki and Henry looked at each other. "What?"

"You wouldn't happen to have a picture of her I could flash down at a bar?" Vicki asked.

"No, but I have one _we_ can use," Celluci said, eyes narrowing.

Vicki shrugged. It was the best she was going to get out of Celluci. "Fine, _we_ can go before nine p.m.—things get busy after sundown."

"Fair enough," Celluci said with a smirk. "Best if we don't do this in a crowd." His eyes inadvertently looked at Henry.

Henry smiled in response although his hazel eyes remained hard. It seemed as though everyone was speaking in innuendo tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

Having parked the car on the residential part of Palmerston Boulevard Celluci and Vicki made their way towards Carlosios. Early evening wasn't known for crowds; like other hot spots in the city the Annex made a quiet transition from tourists and eco-conscious shoppers to the laid back university crowd out in search of a good pint and conversation.

"So why the interest?" Celluci asked as they crossed an intersection.

"My client's daughter and the other suicide girl both frequented the bar. No one could pick them out from a photo so I'm hoping to have more luck with the manager," Vicki replied. More to the point she had a hunch that Celluci's victim was somehow associated with the bar. 'Victory' Nelson was known for her hunches when she was a police officer; her ability to close cases was what got her into homicide so young.

Vicki entered the ground-level part of the bar in search of the manager. The bartender stopped stacking the glasses and looked towards Vicki but she knew that the attentiveness had more to do with the arrival of a six foot four police detective than her five foot ten body dressed in khaki shorts and a red blouse.

Although it was a moot point Celluci flashed his badge at the bartender and asked if the manager was available. It was in the way he carried himself—everything about him screamed 'police officer'. Vicki's former street-snitch Tony said all police officers had a distinctive 'cop-walk' that stood out a mile away even if he or she was dressed in civvies. It was an attitude which seemed to never go away as even seven years after leaving the force Vicki still got mistaken for an active officer.

A man in his late twenties with black spiky hair and a series of tattoos on his left arm approached the pair. "Hi, I'm Greg. You want to speak with me, officers?"

"Actually he's the officer, I'm the private detective," Vicki corrected. "We both have some questions regarding some of your patrons."

Celluci said nothing. He knew his role was to look intimidating and he did that extremely well. Moreover, he knew that interrogation was one of Vicki's specialties and he'd be a fool not to take advantage of her skill. As long as she didn't intimate that her case was a police matter everything was by the book.

Vicki dug into her purse and pulled out some photographs and handed them to Greg. "I was wondering if any of these girls looked familiar?"

Greg flipped through the first two photos quickly enough but his eyes lit up as he studied the third. "No idea who the other two are but this is Ronnie."

"Veronica Lewis? You're sure?" Celluci asked.

"She likes to be called Ronnie. I think she has a thing for comic books," Greg smiled. "And definitely that's her. Hard to miss someone with blue hair. What's up with this anyways?"

Vicki softened her tone. "I'm afraid Ronnie's dead."

"Aw man, that's too bad. She was a sweet girl. You know she was into children's books? She did a little mural for us." Greg indicated with his head a picture on the wall behind the bar showing two cutesy Goth-bears dancing in a field of flowers whose faces were all happy skulls.

"Move over Care Bears," Celluci muttered.

Greg was suddenly serious. "Those other two girls aren't dead too are they?"

"They're another case," Vicki reassured him. "Anyways I've got another description to run by you although it's a little vague. He'd be around six feet tall, white, short dark hair, moustache and likes to wear black clothing"

"I can't say that brings anyone in particular to mind."

"He has a thing for young college girls."

Greg smirked. "Like who doesn't? The place is filled with the artsy-angsty crowd but don't you believe it that everyone's here for the poetry."

"Not hard to believe at all," mumbled Vicki. "Thanks for your time."

Celluci waited until they were out on the sidewalk before grilling her. "Where the hell did that come from: 'White man in black with a moustache'? I see Fitzroy detailed my case."

"We'll talk about you not talking to me about it later," Vicki growled. "Henry said something about finding a scent here. A scent that was at your crime scene."

Celluci went red. "Why didn't that bastard tell me?"

"Probably because you were so quick to exclude him from today's expedition. He came to your crime scene as a favor not because he's your personal bloodhound," Vicki snapped.

A muscle popped in his jaw. She was right: he was being an ass. He could kick himself for leaving a message on Fitzroy's answering machine for the writer to scour the first crime scene without so much as thanks. "Anyways, you were saying?"

"The description belongs to my case. Cindy was doing well at school and in her social life then all of a sudden seemed to develop an obsession with a man who sounds eerily similar to the man in the first suicide's life."

"So we've got a supernatural killing machine and the heartbreak kid in the same joint. Terrific," Celluci said dryly.

"Or maybe they're one and the same. You seem to think the description is similar to your guy."

He scoffed. "My guy isn't killing with bad poetry. Besides, your guy might be a heartless bastard but it's not like he pushed that girl out the window or—how did the other girl die?"

"Bled to death in the bathtub."

"Exactly. Chalk it up to melodramatic kids."

"Cindy's parents said she wasn't like that," Vicki countered.

"Yeah, well my parents could swear on a stack of bibles that I was a virgin until I brought my first girlfriend home from college but that'd be wrong, too. Parents don't really know what's up in their kids' lives. Period." Celluci unlocked the car and got in.

Vicki wasn't convinced that the two cases were unrelated. Despite Celluci's claim, there were enough similarities between the descriptions of their suspects to at least warrant an investigation. Besides, she had a hunch.

She closed the door and reached for her seatbelt. "Now about your case, why didn't you tell me about it?"

Celluci sighed. For such a short distance to Vicki's apartment this was going to be a long ride home.

XxX

While waiting for Celluci to return with the Chinese food Vicki pulled out Cindy's journal. The entries were light and typically teenaged when it came to some topics but her early writing samples did show promise. Then abruptly the dreams started and so did her descent into darker subjects. Vicki was sure that the Romeo in the journal was the same as Billie's man of mystery. The question was how did both girls know this guy? If he was the same creature Henry smelled at the bar and crime scene then why was he killing some girls outright and making others commit suicide? Right now Vicki had nothing. She'd have to talk to Celluci and get Veronica Lewis' information so she could interview friends and family. If Ronnie had nightmares as well Vicki would know she's on the right track.

The sound of keys jangling in front of her door preceded the turning of the lock and Celluci's entrance into the apartment. Vicki cleared the coffee table of her notes and put them and the journal in the magazine rack next to the easy chair. As the Win-Fortune restaurant provided paper plates with their takeout she didn't have to worry about dishes. She took the bag from Celluci and put the dumplings, rice and spicy green beans on the table while he turned on the tv for the Jays game.

"Before we start chowing you mind if I get the Lewis girl's info?" Vicki asked.

Celluci put down his plate. "Not going to let this go are you?" After being partners for four years in homicide and lovers for nearly a decade he knew it was useless when Vicki had her mind set on something. He was skeptical of any connection between their cases but nonetheless pulled out the notepad from his jacket pocket and relayed the information. Between bites and game innings they discussed Celluci's cases.

"Was there anything strange about the victims?" Vicki asked.

Celucci paused in mid-bite and narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by 'strange'?"

"I mean any behavior changes before they died. Loss of sleep? Nightmares?"

"Not that anyone mentioned. Both girls seemed to be ordinary enough, blue hair excluded from Lewis."

"You ought to run the picture of the first vic by Greg. Maybe he knows her," Vicki said as she took a sip of her beer.

"I was going to in the morning. Great minds think alike."

Vicki picked out a couple of chicken dumplings and put them on her plate. "So the demon or whatever it is drains its victim's blood, huh? Like Norman's demon?"

Celluci grunted. "This one's more of a connoisseur. The victims look picture perfect. Took a magnifying glass and two days for the coroner to find a point of exit for the blood. But keep this under wraps; the last thing we need is a resurgence of hysteria the first set of bodies stirred up. The media will have a field day: Vampire Serial Killer Returns. Sure Fitzroy'll love that."

Vicki pursed her lips. "The last time his building's security guard almost staked him. He'll have to be careful."

"I'm always careful," said a voice from Vicki's bedroom.

"Jesus Christ, Henry you almost gave me a heart attack," Vicki sputtered. "Get out here already."

Henry was greeted by two scowls. "Before you ask, no I wasn't snooping. I'd just come in when I heard my name."

"And you always come in through the window," Celluci grunted.

"Old habits die hard," replied Henry with a smirk.

Vicki chewed on her lip in an attempt to curb her temper. Last night's amorous rendezvous with Henry was curtailed by Celluci's unexpected arrival. Now Henry's here and she'd be damned if she'd spend another night alone under the sheets. "So what's up?"

Henry smiled at Celluci. "As I had been remiss to report my findings in a timely manner I thought this time to follow up with the Detective while the iron was hot. As per your request I went to the first victim's crime scene where there was an identical odor to the Lewis girl's assailant."

Celluci took a swig of beer to clear his throat. "Odor as in needs a bath pronto or odor as in bring out the exorcist?"

"Definitely demonic," Henry said as he crossed the room to lean against the window. "Though I've no idea what type. Demonology's—"

"'Just a hobby', yeah we know," Vicki interjected. "Could you track its movements?"

"Straight to the subway as per the Lewis case."

Celluci brightened. "Well, at least we'll have him—it—on film. The TTC's covered in cameras."

"I quite doubt it. I traced the scent down the stairs to College Station but as soon as I got to floor level it vanished as it had at Osgoode," Henry replied.

"So at the end of the day we've got nothing on a demonic serial killer that's roaming the streets of Toronto preying on young women. Terrific. Why can I see myself working this solo at the precinct?" Celluci sighed.

"Maybe at the prescient but you've got two people here, Mike," Vicki soothed. "Look I've been doing some of my own work on these killings and I have an idea. Let me get my notes from the university," she said as she headed into her office.

Celluci's eyes narrowed as he scowled at Henry. "You had no problems texting information before."

Henry tried to suppress a smile. "'I was in the neighborhood'."

"My ass," Celluci growled. "You're just pissed I interrupted your late night snack."

"You think I'm that petty?" Henry asked, his hazel eyes hard.

"Yeah I do." At once Celluci regretted his words as he felt a surge of power in Henry's small frame.

"And I think you're both a pair of idiots," Vicki growled from the doorway. _Hello lonely bed_. "Let's call it a night and start again with fresh eyes." She turned to Henry. "Since you're still up I'd like you to look over my girls' writings to see if you can help define their lover-boy."

Celluci sighed and stuffed a dumpling in his mouth before getting his coat. Vicki walked both men out of the apartment.

"Oh, and next time the two of you treat my love life like a custody battle try to remember I'm going blind not deaf," she said as she slammed the door.


	6. Chapter 6

It was five twenty-eight in the morning when the call came in. Celluci swore often as he dressed quickly and stopped at a Tim Horton's drive-thru before making his way to the crime scene. He scowled as he saw a smattering of civilians clustered at the entrance to the alleyway. A burly constable lifted the police tape for him to duck under and he passed a crime lab technician as she scoured for footprints. As he rounded the corner he caught the eye of his partner, who left the body to join him.

"Let me guess Dave: female, young and pale," Celluci grunted.

"She could be Sleeping Beauty's sister the way she looks," said Dave Graham. "Notice the techs out early? Looks as though our case has gotten red-balled by the big-wigs."

Both men walked over to the body. The woman lay as if she was asleep, right arm resting on her stomach. Thanks to the other two bodies and having seen Vicki after a night with Fitzroy Celluci had become an expert in reading the visible signs of blood loss. From her clothing he deduced that she'd been out somewhere trendy yet upscale and the bars on John Street fit the bill for the young professional.

"Christ why can't we ever get ahead of this guy?" growled Celluci.

"Maybe you should ask Vicki for a tip when you see her," Dave smiled. He'd partnered up with Celluci about a month before Vicki left the force and knew how competitive the two were in just about everything. He corrected himself—competitive in everything.

"Don't make me contaminate the scene with your blood," Celluci warned as he took a sip of his coffee.

Dave continued to smile as he turned towards the sound of the coroner's voice. "Morning Connie."

The coroner took off her shoulder bag and dug out a pair of latex gloves. "Morning Dave. I'm guessing from all the attention we have another sleeper?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Call to Crime Stoppers came in at four fifty-four."

The technician informed the coroner that the preliminary photos had been taken so she went ahead with examining the body. She pulled out a flashlight, handing it to the technician as she took her magnifying glass out of its case. Pointing out an area on the victim's neck for the light to shine she leaned over and peered into her glass.

"Angle the light a little to the left," said the coroner. After a minute or so she sat up on her heels. "Gets easier when you know what to look for. We've got confirmation, gentlemen."

A police constable cleared his throat as he came up to the detectives. "Bad news. CP24's here and they're asking if the body's been drained of blood."

"Christ," Celluci scowled. _Cat's out of the bag_. Someone's head was going to roll back at headquarters. He looked at the body and thought of Fitzroy.

XxX

Once again Henry found himself on the balcony staring over the city. Since he woke to Celluci's message on the answering machine warning of another potential vampire panic he'd been watching CP24 for updates on the latest murder. As yet details were sketchy as to the victim's identity but the map pinpointed the entertainment district as the location where the body was found. Henry smiled grimly. Apparently that was all the pertinent information they needed to run with the story as it was the unsubstantiated report that the body was drained of blood that carried the weight.

Remembering the difficulties he had when Norman's demon went on its killing spree Henry knew he was damn lucky he wasn't killed by the building's security guard. It took quick thinking on Vicki's part to deflect the guard's suspicion. Henry didn't know what she had done specifically but he could guess given the abashed looks the guard gave her whenever she entered the lobby.

_He had a sharp croquet stake in his hand_.

On several occasions Henry mentioned to Vicki that he had no desire to be staked, decapitated and mouth stuffed with garlic any more than being tied to a laboratory table. Too many times in his four hundred and seventy two years had he almost succumbed to peasant justice were it not for Lady Fortune coming to the rescue.

Toronto's city lights and the hulking presence of the CN Tower had been constants in Henry's life for the past eleven years and he was loath to give them up. Give Vicki up. Personal history had shown him, however, that human hysteria is a power under which even a nightwalker might fall if he was not careful. In his fear and haste to destroy Henry Sir Thomas Bloodworth set fire to a London bakery causing a conflagration that nearly destroyed the entire city. As if the fire weren't enough Henry had to elude mobs out to lynch the demon spawn—although the blood of many a foreigner accused of setting suspicious fires also fed the crowd—and escaped London with nothing more than the clothes on his back.

_He had a sharp croquet stake in his hand_.

Perhaps he was a fool for not moving on but truth be told he wouldn't trade these past years for a hundred. Meeting Vicki had meant interacting with more humans than he had in centuries and he never knew until now how shallow his experiences had become. As for the PI herself, she had become one of the five names he invoked against his inner darkness. While the others had been lost to time she lived and though she never _said_ she loved him her actions and level of trust left little doubt. Not while she lived could Henry see himself leaving Toronto.

Walking back into the living room Henry looked at the mantle clock; he couldn't spend the rest of the night fretting over things he couldn't control. Vicki wanted his opinion on the girls' writings and he wasn't sure what he was going to say. The varied descriptions pointed to a man who seemed the veritable leading man, too perfect to exist in real life. If he believed that they weren't emotionally delusional then the only alternative he could come up with was that the girls were haunted by something. Given the nature and subject matter of Cindy's dreams Henry wondered if this mysterious paramour was a sexual predator of the demonic sort.

He pulled a red leather bound book from the shelf and brought it to the table. Flipping its pages, he stopped at the entry for succubus: a demon who took the form of a human female in order to seduce men in their dreams. An incubus was the male counterpart. If this mysterious lover was indeed a demon the chances that two such beings would meet in the same poetry bar were extremely remote. Therefore either the incubus encountered the girls at another location or else it was also Celluci's killer. The only problem with this conclusion was that the incubus theory explained the suicides but not the murders. Henry frowned as he thought. As the 'supernatural element' he felt an obligation to figure out weird happenings in Vicki's cases. All he could offer her was a guess.

The phone rang and Henry crossed the room to pick up the receiver.

"Henry Fitzroy speaking," he said smoothly.

"Fitzroy—Celluci." He heard the Detective growl "_I know, Goddamnit_" under his breath. "I would appreciate it if you could join Vicki and me at the crime scene."

Henry grinned as he heard the underlying level of tension in Celluci's voice. "By all means Detective. The address?"

"End of Nelson Street. Take Duncan south of Queen."

"I'll leave shortly. Expect me in twenty minutes or so," said Henry. Celluci grunted and hung up. _Well at least he tried_. Henry gave a short laugh as he went for his trench coat.

XxX

Retracing his steps back to the crime scene Henry joined Vicki and Celluci on the corner of a cul-de-sac.

"Same as last time," Henry remarked before anyone voiced the question. "The scent goes to the subway stairs and disappears shortly thereafter."

"Christ. So what's it do, teleport?" spat Celluci.

"This time I took the liberty of examining the stairs. As city maintenance budgets aren't what they used to be I noticed a fair number of large cracks in the concrete," explained Henry.

Vicki nodded her head. "Like that kid's demon. When I tracked it in the subway I noticed a residue in a wall crack. Find anything here?"

"Not even an ectoplasmic spitball," Henry said. "Maybe instead of teleporting it's dissipating through the cracks in a gaseous form."

Celluci frowned as he looked around the dimly lit lot. "Terrific. So it's not only able to high jump like an Olympian but also turn into a puff of smoke. Just how the hell am I supposed to stop something like that much less arrest it?"

"_We're_ going to come up with a plan," growled Vicki. Not knowing what else to say she looked to Henry to back her up.

"After reading the journal and poetry I have a theory about the suicides. It's possible that our demon is an incubus—"

"Which is?" urged Celluci.

"A sexual demon who assaults females in their dreams," said Henry tersely. Sometimes Celluci's impatience wore on him.

"And that's relevant to my case how?"

Vicki pursed her lips. "The cases are one and the same, Mike."

"Let me guess—you have a hunch?" Celluci smirked.

"That and a few facts to back me up: all three girls are into writing in one form or another and hang out at the same poetry bar. More to the point all of them have either written about or have been seen with a similarly described man."

Celluci flexed his jaw as he weighed Vicki's information. He had the feeling of being ganged up on and he didn't like being rushed into any kind of decision. "Ok, if for the sake of argument they are the same why kill in two different ways?"

Henry shrugged. "Why do you like steak and pasta? It may have a varied diet or else kill for both sustenance and sadism although most literature says it prefers sexual satiation."

"Must be a supernatural thing," Celluci quipped as he eyed Henry.

Henry gave a slight smile. "Touché."

"So what do we do about it?" scowled Vicki. She always felt a little uncomfortable when Celluci and Henry had moments of comradery. It's not that she didn't want them _not_ to get along but she liked it that she could approach each man as an individual. Two to one odds plus her disposition would mean many lonely nights. "Right now we have no pattern outside of the bar. It'd be overkill to have the police there so I guess it's up to Henry and me going there on poetry night to look for the guy."

"Like hell you're excluding me from this," growled Celluci.

Vicki smiled. "Mike, it's not like you're the depressed author type. If we ever need a pissed off Italian you're first on my list but trust me you don't do morose very well," she said as she looked at Henry.

"You've got to be kidding," scoffed Henry. "I write romance novels—the farthest thing from morose."

"Yeah but you can do the dark and disturbed part easy enough. Must be a vampire thing."

Celluci checked his watch. Another late night on the books meant living off coffee fumes in the morning. "You'll let me know what's going on as fast as if I were there myself," he warned. "I better not hear about any heroics after the fact."

"No heroics," Vicki said as she took Henry's arm. "Nobody but a blind girl and a romance writer here."

Celluci swore and left for his car. Vicki'd be the death of him one day.

XxX

**Didn't We Learn Anything?**

Anne Fellows

Special to the Star

History always seems to have a way of repeating itself, particularly when events are driven by fear. In the time of the Inquisition many innocent people were wrongly accused of being a witch or consorting with the Devil and put to death. Of course the accusers had to know they were working on the side of right and had the victims tortured so they could confess their 'guilt' and die with a clean conscience.

No one knows if Anicka Hendle had confessed to being a vampire before she was killed in April 2008. There were no witnesses when Roger and Bill Taylor waited for her to return home from a night shift at Toronto General Hospital with a baseball bat and a sharpened hockey stick. That's right, sharpened hockey stick. For everyone knows the only way to do in a vampire is a stake through the heart.

At the trial the defense declared that the overwhelming vampire hysteria in the press was responsible for the Taylor brothers' actions that morning. To their susceptible minds Anicka's routine of sleeping all day and working all night meant only one thing: she was the creature of the night the media had been reporting. They felt it was their duty to do away with the foul creature before she could kill another hapless victim.

While the jury did not feel that the defense claim held merit enough to stave off conviction I wonder if the media got off lightly because we never had our day in court. No one ever asked us if our unsubstantiated claims and sensational headlines drove a city into panic. The prosecution never argued that our claims that vampires did not exist were barely heard over the constant barrage of vampire articles and TV specials.

Now three years later we're faced with another string of murders the media has linked to the 'Vampire Killer'. Why not instead of jumping to conclusions we let the police do their job? Let's not make their investigation more difficult by reporting suspicions of vampirism just because someone is not seen during the day or works at a blood bank.

That's the least we owe Anicka.


	7. Chapter 7

This time Vicki put a little more thought into her dress and wore an army green tank top and black shorts. If the bar patrons didn't like it they could bite themselves; Toronto was a humid city in the summer and she'd be damned if she would suffer temperature-wise while being tortured by bad poetry. As the latest bard concluded his disharmonious diatribe Vicki checked her phone for the time. Nine seventeen. Henry had five minutes to get there before she'd kill him.

"Christ," Vicki hissed as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Henry slide into the chair next to her. He smiled briefly before wincing as he turned towards the stage. They waited until the performance had ended before speaking.

"Any news?" Henry asked as neither Vicki nor Celluci had left him a message. The one thing he hated about his daytime naps was being figuratively in the dark about progress in the investigation.

"Not much," Vick said. "Celluci interviewed victim three's relations and as far as they're concerned the girl was happy as a clam. The only difference between her and the other two victims is that she was a professional rather than a student so it's safe to say the demon doesn't have a preference. Well, except for 'young' and 'female'."

Henry nodded although Vicki couldn't see the motion. "Well then, looks like there's nothing more to do than enjoy tonight's festivities." Vicki growled, at which Henry laughed.

After another hour of listening Vicki couldn't decide if she was losing her mind or else the caliber of poets had improved as there were three sets she actually _liked_. She took a sip of her cranberry juice sans vodka. The way the night had been if she had started drinking she'd be in the tank by now.

She felt a cool hand cover her own. "It's here," Henry whispered. "What's the plan?"

"Get it the hell out of here so we can do away with it."

"Any idea as to how?" Henry asked.

Vicki reached into her shirt and pulled out the Crowliot Amulet. "I figured what the hell, the damned thing worked for the last demon so why not this one?"

Henry raised a red-gold eyebrow but said nothing. The amulet had been used to ultimately banish the demon who'd been summoned to Earth by the crazed wizard Whitlock looking to resurrect his dead wife. It was an extremely powerful tool in the hands of a mage but in this instance all they had was Vicki. Henry looked across the room at the demon as it intently watched a young woman scribbling like mad in her journal. For the girl's sake Vicki had to suffice.

Taking Vicki by the arm, Henry rose from the table and started making their way towards the demon. Much like the descriptions it looked every bit the leading actor with its chiseled jaw, smooth skin and penetrating blue eyes. Hoping to close as much distance as possible Henry swore silently to himself as the demon turned to face him, nose flaring. It smiled politely. Henry smiled back and indicated with his head that they should talk outside. The demon nodded and proceeded out the door.

"What's happening?" Vicki growled.

"Creatures of the night conference," Henry said with a smirk.

They exited the bar and followed the demon as it made its way down Palmerston Boulevard. At the midpoint where local businesses and residential buildings met it turned around to wait for them. Vicki scowled as she and Henry stopped under a street lamp. Her lack of night vision put them at a disadvantage as they stood out like a sore thumb while the demon stayed in the shadows.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, nightwalker?" the demon said in a smooth tone that made Vicki's heart flutter. _Christ, I can't even see the damn thing and I'm ready to bed it_.

Henry smiled although his hazel eyes remained hard. "Your activities are problematic to my existence. I prefer a city that sleeps instead of standing on edge."

The demon nodded. "My apologies. Fortunately the mortal world is large and I shall leave your abode shortly."

"My abode's planet Earth," Vicki growled.

"Feisty one. I'm sorry we haven't been acquainted Ms.?"

"Say nothing," Henry said evenly to Vicki, although she could feel his grip tighten on her arm.

Chuckling, the demon looked towards Bloor Street. "As much as I've enjoyed these pleasantries I'm afraid I've some unfinished business to attend."

Vicki grabbed the chain hanging around her neck and pulled out the amulet. "Your business is in hell, buddy." She freed herself from Henry's grip. The last time she'd invoked words of power she'd inadvertently sent him into another dimension. "_Vade ad astra praeter_!" The demon hissed as its eyes opened wide in surprise. A second passed, then two. Vicki frowned. _So much for that_. She hoped the other spell would work as it was all she knew. "_Transmitadastramdiabolique._"

"So much for that," said the demon in an amused tone.

_Christ. Maybe I have to touch it when I cast_. Vicki went towards it and it stepped back to keep the distance. Henry trapped her arm in a steel grip. She tried to throw it off but found she couldn't even move her arm.

Henry reared his head, calling forth the power and presence of all his four hundred and seventy two years. "Go back where you came," he announced.

"Oh I can't do that, especially now." The demon looked malevolently at Vicki. Henry stepped protectively in front of her and bared his fangs as he growled. It looked at him, smiling widely as it gave a slight courtly bow before stepping lightly onto a storm drain and slipped between the bars like a dime through a slot.

"Where is it?" Vicki asked.

"Gone," replied Henry.

She turned on him. "You ever hold me back like that again and I'll nail your nuts to the wall."

Henry sighed. "I take it saving your life isn't a good enough excuse?"

Vicki glared but said nothing.

XxX

Turning towards the sound of Henry's voice Vicki saw him enter the room and smile at her. In that instant she felt herself begin to warm up in all the right places.

"What took you so long?" she asked.

Henry gave a little laugh. "It's only been fifteen minutes." He kissed her lightly on the lips. "I shall not keep my lady waiting again."

"Whatever," Vicki said with a smirk. "You're writing too many romances Henry. Cheese has gone straight to your brain.

He raised a red-gold eyebrow. "Cheese? I assure you many a lady has fallen for timely words and an even timelier kiss."

"Trust me, it's the kiss."

His hazel eyes glinted. "In that case how can I refuse?"

They came together with such force that Vicki's glasses flew from her face. Hands moved in a flurry of motion as clothing tore away, leaving them in a tumbled heap of naked flesh. Vicki kissed and nibbled, hearing gasps and laughter in response. Only when she looked at Henry's blurry face did it occur to her that her glasses were going to get crushed.

"One. Moment," she said between kisses. "My glasses."

"I'll buy you a new pair," Henry responded, not letting her go.

"And go around squinting at the world? No thanks." She heard him groan as she rolled off of him and sought out her glasses. "Help me look, will ya? I'll make it worth your while."

"I don't know about that," Henry teased. "I'm pretty expensive."

Vicki felt her glass frame and pulled it out from under the bed. Wanting to orient herself in the room she put on her glasses. "Hope you like bad checks 'cuz this one's going to bou—"

She stopped talking as she turned over. In Henry's place lay the incubus.

The demon smiled.

Awake at last, Vicki rolled over to get her glasses from the nightstand and look at the clock. Two p.m..

"Crap," she groaned as she rubbed her forehead. She was supposed to have lunch with Celluci but she obviously overslept that appointment and would now face a berating-turned-argument once they did meet. Vicki laughed as she realized her relationship with a four hundred and fifty plus year old vampire was more emotionally stable than her human one. There was something about Celluci that got Vicki's blood boiling, resulting in many arguments and enthusiastic rounds of make-up sex. As for Henry, his very presence could put her in the mood and—

Vicki opened her eyes and looked at the clock. Two seventeen p.m.. "Crap, crap, crap," she muttered as she bounded out of bed for the shower. As she lathered herself up Vicki did her best to empty her mind of naughty bits and concentrate on the case but it was proving difficult. _Must be withdrawl symptoms_. It had been a week since she had sex and while she didn't consider herself a nymphomaniac she knew it definitely took more than food and drink to keep her going. She rinsed the shampoo from her hair and turned off the water. This whole case could keep her sexual mojo on high alert after meeting that demon last night. Vicki clenched her jaw in disapproval as she felt herself getting warm at the thought of the incubus. _Definite withdrawl_.

The light was flashing on the answering machine as she entered the living room. She pressed _play_ and walked into the kitchen to make coffee.

_One new message. Message One_: "Where the hell are you? Nothing better of happened last night or so help me Nelson I'll have your hide."

Vicki smiled grimly as she took the milk from the refrigerator. Celluci was pissed and had every right to be. It wasn't like her to just sleep in when she had an appointment. She'd be put out if he did the same to her, especially if he had done reconnaissance last night like she had. Granted she was with Henry but that didn't mean she was necessarily safe. The vampire was tough but he wasn't as invulnerable as the legends made him out.

Taking the mug of coffee, Vicki grabbed the phone before settling into the easy chair. She dialed Celluci's cell and waited for the deluge.

"Where the hell've you been?" Celluci roared. "I was about to go to your place and see if you're dead because at the very least you _will_ be for putting me through this."

"I slept in, Mike. Sorry for grabbing more than a single sleep cycle."

"Bull. You never sleep in." Here he paused. "Even when you're with Fitzroy you're never in bed past noon so what gives?"

Vicki frowned as she felt her temper rise. "How the hell should I know? Nothing's wrong but if you keep this up _we'll_ be wrong so shut up and listen. Last night Henry and I found the demon."

"I _knew_ it! Only you could find a bloody demon the first time you look. What happened?"

"It's a real charmer. Obviously I couldn't get a good look at it but from its voice I'd say Brad Pitt's got nothing on our boy." To her surprise she realized even Henry's allure fell short. "Anyways we got it outside and had a few words with it but—"

"A few words? What it needed was a swift kick off our planet," Celluci growled.

"Let me finish will you?" Vicki snarled as she took a sip of coffee. "Standing around discussing our feelings was Henry's idea. Needless to say it didn't work and so now we're no closer to finding out where it is while it knows that we know it exists." _Oh, and we tried using the amulet and it didn't work so we're screwed even if we do find the damn thing._

"Terrific."

"As a bright side we do know who it'll attack next. Henry and I disturbed it while it was licking its chops over some girl at the bar. After it left Henry chatted her up and got her name and address. Abby Wallace. 252 Frankdale Avenue. Somewhere in East York."

"My victim profile or yours?" Celluci asked.

"Mine, unfortunately." She heard him swear a few words in Italian. "Henry's digging up information on how to stop it so we're at a standstill until evening."

"Fair enough. I'll pick you up around sunset and we'll visit Fitzroy since the only way I get pertinent information is when I'm physically there. Of course," he said with a sigh, "this leaves me the rest of the day to feign interest as Dave and I run over the details of Norman's case with the 'red ball' team. What a life."

Vicki was used to him hanging up without a goodbye. It was the same way they almost always referred to each other by their last names—old police habits die hard. Since she had a few hours to kill she thought to catch the news before going over her notes. She clicked to CP24 and skimmed through the program guide. At eight p.m. the channel was doing an expose on the murders: Secrets of the Vampire Killer. Vicki rolled her eyes. _No Anne, we didn't learn a damn thing from last time_. 

XxX

Henry frowned as he looked at the mantle clock. Nine thirty three. He was rather annoyed when he woke to Celluci's message warning to expect company just after sunset. While Henry didn't mind assisting in the investigation he did have his own affairs to attend. It had been several nights since he'd fed and the Hunger would overtake him if he was not careful. His first choice was for Vicki to stay the night but he had his doubts. Whether it was the will of Providence or an overbearing Italian detective getting together with Vicki seemed as futile as the Leafs' playoff chances.

"At last," he murmured to himself as he heard the elevator door open. Two heartbeats made their way down the hall until they stopped in front of his door. A key in the lock and a turn of the handle and Vicki and Celluci entered the apartment.

"Nice for the two of you to join me," Henry said sarcastically.

Celluci snorted. "Don't look at me. I had to wake Sleeping Beauty here."

"Get stuffed," Vicki scowled. She was embarrassed it took Celluci physically shaking her to come to her senses. Even more to her annoyance was that she still felt tired despite her nap. _What a time to come down with something._

Despite himself Henry gave Vicki a small smile. After nearly five centuries of sleeping like the dead during the day he could sympathize with missing out on gatherings and events. Sleep was the one major aspect of vampirism he did not like since it left him vulnerable to anyone who found his body.

"So what's the story?" Celluci said as he dumped his jacket over the back of the couch. "We got a plan to KO the demon or what?"

Henry sighed. "Either or, Detective. I've consulted the _Malleus Maleficarum_ for ideas and it describes several ways of overcoming an incubi: exorcism, sacrificial confession, the sign of the cross, recitation of the angelic salutation and excommunication. I'll assume moving the victim to another location is only partially successful since Cindy did show some sign of improvement at home before succumbing to her dreams."

Celluci grunted. "Great. So one of us has to be Father Dowling. At least we have a way to combat this thing."

"Not necessarily," said Henry.

He crossed over to the shelf and took out a book with a well-worn cover. Vicki couldn't help but notice how gracefully he moved towards the side table. His sweater clung to his body although its dark color muted any physical contrasts. The V-neck accentuated his pale throat, giving it a measure of vulnerability she found sensuous. As for his pants the cut fit him well in all the right places.

"Friar Ludovico Maria Sinistrari said that incubi 'do not obey exorcists, have no dread of exorcisms, show no reverence for holy things, at the approach of which they are not in the least overawed,'" Henry read aloud.

Vicki yawned. "I thought holy counteracted the demonic?"

"Yes but vampirism was also considered demonic and as I take confession and attend evening Mass that puts a lid on that. Maybe incubi are something other than demonic." Henry raised a red-gold eyebrow as he looked at Vicki. The Hunger began to strain against his will as even across the room he could smell her pheromones as her body became sexualized.

Celluci scowled. "Terrific. So we may have something that works or else it'll laugh itself silly when we try to Holy Ghost its ass home."

"I know it's contrary to how we all think but until we know for certain the holy road is closed let's keep our fingers crossed." Vicki slowly licked her lips as she thought.

_Jesu._ Henry went to the window and rested his clenched hand against the glass as he looked at the city beyond. "I can always speak to Father Michael about procuring some holy wafers and water."

Celluci's cell phone rang. "Now all we need to know is where this thing hangs out." He checked the number before answering. "Celluci. Christ not again. Where? I'll be there in about twenty." He hung up and looked grimly at his companions. "Another body in the entertainment district. This is the earliest we've found one so hopefully it was rushed and forgot something."

"'Forgot something'?" Henry asked, eyebrow raised.

"Hell I don't know. I've got to do something," Celluci spat.

Vicki grabbed Celluci's coat. "Let's go." She looked longingly at Henry. "I'll call you tomorrow."

Henry stifled a growl and smiled icily. "Of course it'll be several hours before the Detective and his crew leaves the crime scene. Perhaps you should stay here and we can go together later?"

While the idea seemed sound Vicki was unsure if she could stay awake even if she and Henry found a mutually satisfying way to pass the time. Besides, she owed Cindy and the other girls her full attention to the case. "I think it's best to have someone on the scene who knows what it sounds and looks like." She could feel Henry's displeasure and made it a point not to look at the vampire lest she be swayed.

"I'll leave a message if we find anything," said Celluci.

Henry nodded and indicated the door with an extended hand. "I hope your investigation proves fruitful." After they left Henry cleared the books from the living room before settling before the computer to write another chapter. After ten minutes he admitted that the plight of Jane Forsythe wasn't holding his attention. He sighed as he went for his jacket. The incubus wouldn't be the only preternatural hunter tonight.


	8. Chapter 8

It was the way he smirked as he cocked his head to the left that got Vicki hot. Of course Henry Fitzroy exhibited a glorious amount of sex appeal just standing still. She wasn't sure to what extent her attraction was the result of vampire allure but she did know a significant part reacted to his personal appeal. _Must be a Prince thing_.

"What are you thinking?" Henry asked as he lightly brushed her arm with his fingers.

Vicki grinned. "Just how I could screw you into next week. That's some damn trick with the tongue, Henry.

He laughed. "Well I'd be a poor excuse for a vampire if I hadn't learned anything over four hundred and seventy-two years."

"You're always so precise with your age. Five hundred is an easy round-off point. Christ, it can't be because it makes you sound too old," Vicki teased.

"If there's anything I've come to learn over the years it's that tomorrow is merely an invitation not a promise. Who knows? Something could happen to me in the next twenty-eight years and that'd screw up my obituary dates," Henry responded lightly.

Vicki frowned. "Like hell anything's going to happen. Not on my watch. What you do when I'm gone is up to you but as for now your ass is mine."

"You've got a lot more than my backside," he said seriously.

Vicki bit the side of her cheek but said nothing. Henry rolled onto his back, pulling Vicki on top. He kissed her slow and deep seemingly counting the seconds until he allowed her to breathe with the parting of their lips.

"I'll get you one day, Ms. Nelson," Henry whispered.

Vicki smiled. She had no doubt he would.

Opening her eyes she lazily reached for her glasses and looked at the clock. Eleven a.m..

"Christ not again," she groaned as she put her palm against her forehead. Her head felt a little warm but it was hard to tell if it was the result of flu or the outside temperature with its ever-present humidity. _Maybe allergies?_

Vicki never made it to the crime scene. She looked and felt so tired after leaving Henry's that Celluci's car ride nearly put her out. Instead he took her home 'for a quick nap' and she said she would call him later. _Much much later. Damn_. Hoping against hope that he'd still be up Vicki nonetheless dialed the number.

"Celluci."

"Damn Mike you sound exhausted."

"Living off coffee fumes at this point," he replied wearily. "Didn't bother calling Fitzroy since the scene looks the same as the others: woman drained of blood found in an alleyway."

Vicki turned on the television to CP24. "Any witnesses?"

"Nothing. Not like it matters at this point since I don't think we can get it in for a lineup."

"I see you had company last night. Watching CP24 at the moment."

"God damn vultures. The media is all over this like my family to Nona's spaghetti. They can smell blood," Celluci growled.

"Or lack of it."

"Very funny. Anyways I'm off to do the family meet and greet to see if I can connect this vic to the poetry bar. Why the hell not at this point?"

Vicki bit her lip. "I can't think of anything else that'd be relevant to our case at the moment. That's the problem with too little information."

"Tell me about it. After I'm finished up I'm going to crash for a few hours so I can be up tonight with Fitzroy. If you can get your head off the pillow I'd appreciate the help."

"I'll be fine," Vicki growled and hung up.

Going back to her police days Vicki went into the kitchen and started the perpetual stream of coffee into her system. She'd make it to Henry's place even if she had to walk there in her pajamas. Opening the fridge door she took out a carton of orange juice and checked to see if it was still good. She decided she could live with the slightly fermented tang and poured herself a glass. When the phone rang she quickly dropped her bread in the toaster and went into the living room.

"Nelson."

"Hello Vicki? Did you see the news this morning? Are you ok?"

Vicki rolled her eyes. "Hi Mom, yes and yes. Don't worry the psychopath seems to have something for college-aged kids not us thirty-somethings."

"Well still it's very creepy. The media's saying all these poor girls were drained of blood. What kind of monster does that sort of thing?"

_Funny you should ask since I know several._ "It takes all kinds. Anyways I'm working on a case at the moment so I'll have to let you go."

There was a pause before her mom answered. "I know you're busy but a little pop out to Kitchener to see your mom once in a while other than Christmas and her birthday wouldn't hurt."

"Paying rent's tight enough as it is, Mom. I have to take the work as it comes in. I'll see you after the case is done. Well, unless—"

"You have another case," her mother finished. "I know dear. Keep well and we'll talk again soon."

Vicki returned the phone to its cradle, feeling the little pang of guilt she always felt after a phone call with her mother. It wasn't that she didn't want to see her mother it's that she could never make the time to see her. Vicki frowned. She'd have to fix this or someday she'd come to regret not going.

XxX

"Good evening, Detective," said Henry as he opened the door.

"Shouldn't it be 'Enter freely and of your own will?'" quipped Celluci.

Henry smirked. "Only applies the first time you're over, sorry." He opened the door wider to let Celluci into the apartment. Vicki was sitting on the couch looking over her notes while CP24 played in the background.

"Got here early I see," Celluci remarked as he leaned against the wall.

"I said I would," Vicki growled in response. She didn't want to admit that after ten coffees she still felt tired. In order to stay awake she went over to Henry's place before sunset. He was rather surprised to wake to the sound of her blood pulsing through her veins in the next room but made no mention of it as he completed his daily routine. To his mind this was the first time Vicki had ever come early to his apartment. After being trapped for a day with his body she'd never stepped through the door without him being there to greet her personally.

Celluci knew from the tone to drop the subject unless he wanted to get into a full blown row. "Anyways I went to Miller's house. Sorry, Erin Miller was our latest victim: twenty-two, U of T student majoring in English. And yes before you ask she liked to write poetry and went to some kind of poetry night although the family was unsure as to where."

"Christ at this point there's going to be no one left at the bar," Vicki commented.

"Maybe the demon is the defender of the English language," Henry called from the bedroom. He appeared in his black leather trench coat.

"What's with the jacket? It's got to be twenty-eight degrees tonight. Oh wait I forgot, you've got that Prince of Darkness thing going on," Celluci chuckled.

Henry smiled. "I don't pick my clothes for style alone. I don't want to be recognized at the crime scenes. A vampire's best defense is anonymity and I risk that every time I go out in public—not that I'm complaining," he said quickly so as to avoid guilt. "Getting out is good for me, especially when I have company. Even you, Detective."

"Shall we?" Celluci grunted. He never knew what to say when Fitzroy was being forthright so tended not to acknowledge such comments aloud.

"I'm afraid all I have in the refrigerator is water and cola. Tony has been away at a friend's house for the past two weeks and I don't expect him back until the twenty-third," Henry said apologetically. Tony was Vicki's former street informant who became Henry's friend and resident blood donor. The relationship was mutually beneficial as Henry gave Tony a stable place to stay and Tony had the know-how to set the VCR to record. Henry wasn't anachronistic about too many things but the ability to tape his favorite programs eluded him.

"Cola's fine," Vicki responded. _Caffeine, yay._

Celluci followed the vampire to the door. "This shouldn't take very long. Somehow I doubt our demonic killer left a trail to its lair." Vicki nodded and went back to her paperwork. The muscles in Celluci's jaw tightened as he looked at her. Not once did she even entertain the idea of going to the crime scene and that was completely unlike her. He noted the dark lines under her eyes and wondered if she was coming down with something. _Summer colds are a bitch to kick_.

Hearing the key turn in the lock Vicki took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. _Christ I'm tired._ She put on her glasses as she went to the kitchen and brought back the bottle of cola and a glass.

"Let's see where we're at," she muttered as she poured.

Vicki flipped to a fresh page and wrote 'Incubus' at the top. The best way to combat the thing was to know what it could do. From the York students she gathered the demon could haunt their dreams to the point it affected their waking life. As Henry noted, Cindy's tiredness and appetite improved in the first few days at home before she fell into the routine of oversleeping. Physically, it could drain a body of blood and leap fences without working up a sweat. Moreover it could manipulate its body to slip through cracks and crevasses.

She stopped writing to take a sip of pop and think. When she met the incubus she was nearly overwhelmed by its sex appeal. _Those girls never had a chance_. Vicki blanched. Speaking of girls someone had to check out Abby Wallace since the incubus had taken an interest in her at the bar. Of course the difficult part would be how to approach her. It's not like they could tell her to beware of her dreams because the romantic lead was a deranged demon. Vicki yawned and stretched. _Time for more pop_. She poured another glass and took a big gulp, ruing the indigestion she'd have later from the carbon.

Time ticked by as she condensed the notes from her investigation and Celluci's crime scenes until she heard a set of keys jangling at the door. Vicki tossed her pen on the table and arched her back into a stretch.

"That was quick," she said as Henry came into the room. "Where's your trench coat?"

Henry went into the bathroom to wash his hands. "In this heat I stood out like a sore thumb so I took it off," he said over the water. "And it's later than you think. What have you been doing?"

Vicki sighed. "Not a hell of a lot. I went over the notes and compiled a profile of the incubus. We really don't know jack about it and it'll keep killing unless we stop it."

"Let me hear what you have," said Henry as he entered the living room. As Vicki read from her notes he went into the refrigerator for a bottled water. Every living thing on the planet required water to survive and Henry was no different although he found fluoride in tap water too harsh for his palate. "You're right we don't have a lot to go on," he said when she finished.

"So what do we do?" She spiked her hair with her fingers in frustration. "Your books say anything else?"

Henry picked up the book from the end table and sat next to Vicki on the couch. "So where did I leave off?"

"You said some friar crapped on the idea of exorcism to get rid of the demon." She took a sip of pop.

Henry's eyes sparkled. "That's right. So religion and magic aside—since we know from your using the amulet that we can't just send it away—what do we have left?"

Vicki chewed the side of her cheek. "Well, maybe it'll be a combination of the two. Maybe we need a pentagram or something to trap it first."

Putting the book on the table Henry turned to face her wearing an impish smile. "'Maybe' indeed. It's far easier to paint a magic circle than it is to trap an incubus within. Fortunately—" here he brushed the side of her face with the back of his hand, "—we have a demon specialist in the house."

"Oh so now you're a specialist," Vicki laughed. "I thought 'demonology was a hobby'."

"One is not mutually exclusive to the other. I like to think myself knowledgeable in many things." He leaned over and kissed her on the lips. Vicki's response was so fierce he found himself on his back. One whole week of thwarted sexual desire made itself known as clothing was unceremoniously cast aside and hands explored every inch of skin. When the couch became too small for their activities Henry scooped up her five foot ten frame and lithely carried her into the bedroom. Vicki had never wanted to sprawl on a bed so much. Her arms and legs spread to the four corners until they folded upon Henry as he mounted her to release the tension. At last he was hers and she was his. No outside world. No Celluci to ruin the moment.

Vicki frowned as Henry kissed her neck. She never liked thinking about one man when she was with the other. It wasn't that she felt like she was cheating on _them_ as much as cheating them of her _time_. Each man was special in his way and deserved no less than her absolute attention. Here was Henry—Henry the scientific impossibility, the historical footnote at the bottom of her university textbook—alive and amazing as he worked her body with every precise movement of his own until they came as one.

Placing his head against her heart as they rested Henry began stroking Vicki's arm until he gently brought her hand up to his mouth. She felt little nibbles on her fingers and light kisses on her palm. It was when his kisses went down to her wrist that she felt herself grow hotter. One kiss turned into a lick, then another and then came the inevitable pressure as his teeth penetrated her vein. Vicki closed her eyes as he drank, unconsciously stroking his hair. She felt good. No, more than good. She was alive and happy and steadily growing light-headed from blood loss. Before long or was it all too short Henry licked her wrist, letting coagulates in his saliva seal the wound. He planted a heart-felt kiss on her wrist before setting her hand down by her side.

"You are delicious," Henry murmured as he turned to look her in the face.

"You make me sound like Baskin Robbins. Which one of thirty flavors am I?" she teased.

"All of them," he whispered as he kissed her. "The blood is the life. You are my life." He bent his neck to better access her ear lobe.

Again Vicki closed her eyes. Usually she'd say something to dispel the emotional tension which occurred every time Henry discussed his feelings for her but she felt too lazy, too happy, to do so tonight. Well perhaps lazy wasn't the appropriate word as Henry's sweet nibbles got a rise out of her. Smiling with her teeth exposed Vicki was going to show Henry that he wasn't the only predator in the room. The night swirled into one climax after another until Vicki fell asleep in her lover's arms.

At some point Vicki felt the need to roll over and in doing so fell out of bed and landed on the floor. She lay there, mind still processing the entire event until an urgent message screamed across her brain—she felt the sun on her face!

"Christ!" Vicki yelled as she turned to shield Henry and found herself wrapping her arm around a couch pillow. She opened her eyes. "What the hell?"

"At last Goddammit," said Celluci. Vicki rolled onto her back to see her former partner looking down at her. The worry on his face said it all.


	9. Chapter 9

"What the hell are you doing here?" Vicki asked. She put her hand up before Celluci could respond. "Wait a minute. What the hell am _I_ doing here? I was with—" she paused when she remembered who was with her now.

"Fitzroy called me over at around five thirty saying he couldn't wake you up and that I needed to keep trying while he—well he went to bed. Guess I can let the ice water out of the tub."

Leaning against the couch, Vicki rubbed her eyes. "Christ I'm tired. I feel like I haven't slept all night."

Celluci snorted. "Sounded like it too."

Vicki glared icily at him. "Ok, what the hell happened last night?"

"From what Fitzroy said he came home to find you asleep on the couch. You started to have dreams with x-rated content and weren't afraid of being vocal about them." Vicki blushed, refusing to look Celluci in the face. "After a while he tried to wake you up but found he couldn't. The rest you know: he called me, I came over and you waking up five minutes ago."

Frowning, Vicki hated that up to now she only brought questions to the conversation. "Somehow I'm guessing this isn't the flu," she said with finality.

Celucci shook his head. "Fitzroy figures the incubus is attacking you. The bastard said something about this being his fault. He shouldn't have confronted the demon with you present. Coffee?"

"Love some. So what the hell was I supposed to do while he was parlaying, sit in the car and knit? The last two times Henry came face to face with a demon he almost died so how this guy damn well gets off telling me to sit one out because it's 'too dangerous' takes more nerve than—" Here Vicki described some anatomically impossible feats delivered with an element of surprise.

"I'll call it a wild stab in the dark that maybe he cares about you," said Celluci from the kitchen. "Where the hell's the sugar? Christ he's got nothing in here. What the hell does Tony eat?"

"He dines out a lot. Henry finds the smell of food stinks up the apartment for days." Vicki yawned as she rubbed her neck. _This is ridiculous_.

"Why am I not surprised?" Celluci snorted. "His Princeliness keeps a clean crypt. I wonder how Tony can stand it during the day when he's—sleeping. From what I gathered at the werewolf farmhouse he's up and down with the sun's movements. Does that mean he's unable to wake by himself? Sure leaves a guy mighty vulnerable to his enemies. Good thing he's got nobody here but—" He stopped himself. Vicki might be Fitzroy's friend but he sure wasn't. "Well, people who don't want to see him dead. Vicki I see cans of Carnation milk, want me to open one?" Hearing no response he walked with the can into the living room. "Vicki?"

With her head slumped back onto the couch Vicki Nelson was fast asleep.

"Terrific," mumbled Celluci.

XxX

"Henry," Vicki whispered before rolling onto her side.

Celluci's jaw squared as he turned to get more coffee. He kept a pot brewing just in case Vicki woke up. Sunset was off with a glorious red goodbye and with that Celluci perked up his ears in the direction of Henry's room. It wasn't even a minute before he heard stirring and the door open. Wearing nothing but a pair of silk pajama bottoms Henry entered the living room to see Vicki still on the couch.

"_Jesu_, she's still out," he muttered as he wrinkled his nose. During the day Celluci had ordered a pizza and the smell of cooked meat was unpleasant.

"Well not quite 'still'—she was up earlier," Celluci said sheepishly. "Turned my back for an instant to make her coffee and out like a light."

Henry frowned but didn't comment on Celluci's failing. Knowing the Detective like he did he knew that Celluci was already kicking himself far harder than the vampire ever could. Squatting by Vicki's head, Henry moved strands of blond hair from her face.

"Has she said anything?" he said after a moment.

Celluci tenuously balanced his large frame on a breakfast nook seat. "Nothing except the usual noises—and your name."

"At any other time I might have taken that as a compliment but I think our incubus has chosen my form for a reason. It's taunting me."

"Sounds like a paranormal pissing contest. Christ Vicki can't even get shut eye without guys fighting over her." Celluci took a sip of his coffee. Unlike with Fitzroy he didn't have the satisfaction of confronting the demon's intentions face to face. He shook his head. How could it be that his life was so screwed up he's hunting a demon and wanting to beat up a vampire? Looking at Vicki he quickly had his answer. There's an old saying about going to Hell and back for someone. Well Hell was bringing its minions here and he wasn't going to lose Vicki without a fight.

Henry caught Vicki as she almost rolled off the couch. She opened her eyes to look into his hazel ones which were stamped with worry.

"Christ not again," she mumbled. She closed her eyes to gather her thoughts. "Celluci was here. I think."

"Still here," Celluci replied as he got up from the stool to get Vicki a coffee.

"Like it matters but what time is it?" Vicki groaned.

"Just before nine p.m. or four minutes after sundown, take your pick," Henry replied as Vicki rose and swung her legs into a sitting position.

Celluci came out of the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee. "Here, get this into you before you crash."

Vicki thankfully took the mug and took a moment to down several mouthfuls.

"Since we're all up I'm hoping it's all right for me to take a quick shower?" Henry inquired as he stood. Vicki nodded and Celluci grunted his ascent. It was in closing the bathroom door that a thought struck Henry like a bolt—if Vicki _had_ needed to use the facilities who would go in to make sure she was ok if things got too quiet? _God help us if she was awake when we did._

Back in the living room Celluci moved the pizza box from the counter to the coffee table. "Best cure for a hangover."

Vicki put down her mug and tore into the pizza. She couldn't remember being so hungry! Usually she had a roaring appetite after—here she blushed and growled at the same time. Celluci gave her a quizzical look but she shook her head angrily and swallowed.

"So how did you get off work to be here?" she asked as she ate.

"Called in 'ill dependent'."

Vicki smirked. "I didn't realize I counted as immediate family."

"Well you were immediately ill and very dependent so that's close enough," Celluci grinned back. "I sure as hell wasn't going to leave you here by yourself. Well, you know what I mean," he said as he indicated the bathroom door with his head.

"Thanks Mike. Really, it means a lot." She drained her coffee.

"More," Celluci said in a tone that wasn't a question. He grabbed the mug and went into the kitchen as Henry came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Vicki looked at him—how his red-gold hair was frazzled by the towel and his skin still slightly damp around his collar bone—and realized the dream Henry didn't hold a candle to the real thing. For all his preternatural abilities and age it was the little human idiosyncrasies that she liked most about Henry Fitzroy; the dream Henry was perfect to the point of being unsettling.

Celluci emerged from the kitchen with two mugs and placed them on the coffee table as he sat next to Vicki. "You remember anything about the dreams, something relevant to nail this thing to the wall?" Celluci swore. "You know what I mean."

In spite of herself Vicki laughed. "Well we could also say I'm all screwed up at the moment." At this Celluci laughed, letting out steam from a day filled with tension and anxiety.

Henry emerged from his bedroom with a little smirk on his face. "We're in a good way when we can still see the humor in the situation," he commented, obviously having heard the joke from the other room.

"How can we not?" Vicki asked as she took off her glasses to wipe her eyes. "I mean this is bloody ridiculous. I'm acting like a teenager and this old body can't take it. So what the hell do we do about it?"

Henry opened the hall closet and took out a black satchel. "I'm going out to see Father Michael and get some Holy water and wafers. When I get back I'm going to make a protective circle."

Vicki pursed her lips. "We already know the amulet doesn't work; besides your dreamy counterpart crapped all over the idea of using magic—or religion for that matter."

"Could be the demon's bluffing," Celluci offered.

"Very possible, Detective," Henry replied. "Keep her awake. I'll be back shortly." Before Vicki could vocalize her indignation he was out the door. Celluci looked at her and shrugged.

"How about Vicki tries to keep Vicki awake?" she grumbled as she looked around the apartment. Unfortunately most of Henry's books were in foreign languages except for his romance books and she'd rather go back to poetry night than read Elizabeth Fitzroy's latest adventure. She could have smacked herself in the head when she thought of Henry's computer.

Grabbing the fresh mug of coffee Celluci left on the table she went into the office and booted up the computer. Granted, she didn't know much about computers beyond what Mr. Chin's daughter showed her but Vicki did bow down to the power that was Google. When the screen prompted for a subject Vicki typed 'incubus' and waited for the results. The first two sites were associated with a musical group but the third looked promising.

"What are you looking up?" Celluci said over her shoulder.

Vicki pushed her glasses up her nose. "'Incubus'. We need as much information on this thing as we can get."

"Even if it's wrong," he snorted.

"Better than nothing." She sighed. "I just want to feel useful, you know?"

Celluci said nothing. To hear Vicki express any sort of vulnerability meant she was near to cracking and that would only add wood to the fire. "So what's it say?"

"Well there are a lot of medieval legends about succubi and incubi sexually assaulting sleeping humans although from how it sounds the demons have actual sex in a physical form." She paused as she clicked onto another page. "Oh great. 'Incubi may engage a woman in sexual activities in order to father a child. On the other hand, religious tradition holds the view that prolonged sexual encounters could result in physical deterioration or death.'"

"Terrific," growled Celluci.

Vicki grinned as she shut off the computer. "Well there are worse ways to go."

"You're not going anywhere," he said as they walked into the living room and clicked on the tv.

In just over half an hour Henry returned with a roll of carpet over his shoulder to find Celluci and Vicki watching the latest sports scores on TSN. He squinted as he entered since every light in the living room was on.

"Finished shopping?" Celluci asked as he switched off the tv.

Henry patted his satchel. "Got almost everything I need. The last requires the both of you to go to Vicki's apartment for the Crowliot amulet."

Vicki almost jumped off the couch in her excitement to leave but Celluci was more cautious. "You sure it's a good idea for her to be out?" he asked.

"I've things to do so I won't be able to monitor her wakefulness. Besides, I think a change of scenery and fresh air will do her good," Henry replied.

"So what is she waiting for?" Vicki growled. "Oh I know, she's waiting for her friends to quit treating her like an idiot and let her make her own decisions." She glared at the two men but in her heart she couldn't admonish them too hard. They cared, and in caring were also afraid for her. "On the way back we pick up milk and sugar."

After Vicki and Celluci left Henry let the worry appear on his face. From their looks he obviously sounded much more confident than he actually was and he hoped he could keep up the façade. Going into his bedroom he quickly unrolled the carpet lest it curl on him. The fibers were tan in color and so short the carpet felt like it was made of crushed velvet. He went into his supply cupboard and brought back nails, a bottle of black paint and several brushes of various thicknesses. He took four nails from the package and tacked the corners of the carpet with a push of his thumb into the hardwood floor. _So much for the damage deposit_.

Henry went into the kitchen and grabbed a small bowl and the mortar and pestle, stopping in the living room for the necessary grimoire and returned to the bedroom. Flipping through the pages of the _Creaturas Noctis_ he stopped when he came to a treatise on banishing demons by way of Holy pentacle. He quickly read over the article before opening his satchel and taking out the Holy water and wafers. The wafers crushed easily in the mortar and pestle and were dumped into the empty bowl. Henry unscrewed the cap and poured the black paint into the bowl and stirred until the wafers were thoroughly mixed. Lest he make it too thin he measured out a cap full of Holy water and dumped it in the bowl and stirred.

For the next hour Henry painted the diagram from the grimoire onto the carpet. Unlike the last time he painted a pentagram he was working with a smaller surface so had to be careful when applying the symbols around the circle. When he finished he unconsciously wiped his palms against he thighs even though he had lost the ability to sweat nearly five centuries ago. The circle, about eight feet in diameter, took up the bulk of floor space in the bedroom but he would not entertain the thought of putting it anywhere else. It was the biggest clear area in the apartment and therefore saved moving furniture in the living room. More privately, the bedroom was the place where he could watch over Vicki until the very last second before dawn. He realized that he would have to leave his bedroom door unlocked leaving him vulnerable to Celluci in the room beyond but that was of secondary concern. He looked at the circle and pursed his lips; he wasn't sure if it would work as the _Creaturas Noctis_ had nothing specific on incubus protection but he was hoping a bit of demonology, divine intervention and luck would do the trick.

Henry opened the door for Vicki as she entered with Celluci following behind carrying two bags of groceries. It was a good thing the circle was prepared as Vicki looked like she could drop at a moment's notice.

"You're kidding, right?" Vicki mumbled as she looked at the pentagram but didn't argue further as Henry put blankets and a pillow into the circle's center. Vicki took off her shoes and crawled under the sheets as Celluci and Henry looked on. "Do I get a bedtime story, dad?"

"I doubt you'd make it past 'once upon a time'," Henry smirked. Vicki smiled in return. "The only thing you've got to remember is that a part of the circle facing my bed is only marked in chalk. Don't erase it under any circumstances lest the demon break into the circle." Vicki nodded but didn't open her eyes. "Most importantly, _you_ don't leave the circle unless it's to the bathroom." Henry sighed as Vicki was fast asleep.

Celluci looked at Henry. "So what do we do now?"

"We pray," said the vampire grimly.


	10. Chapter 10

As expected things were blurry but at least it was bright enough for Vicki to see had she her glasses. She could feel that she was on the floor so didn't want to move as her body would start complaining of stiffness. More to the point she felt _good_. Granted she thought herself capable of sleeping the day away but as she felt confident it would be restful sleep she wasn't angry about her tiredness. From the moment she hit the pillow last night until she woke now she hadn't had a single dream. No Henry. No incubus. Nothing.

Sighing as she felt the need to stretch her hand brushed against her glasses and a piece of paper. Vicki reached over and grabbed both. As she pushed her glasses up her nose she saw that the note was from Henry. It warned her not to leave the circle unless absolutely necessary because there could be no chance of her falling asleep outside its protection. She grunted her dissatisfaction as she spotted several bottled waters, a box of crackers and a jar of peanut butter just outside of the circle. Nevertheless she was famished and in short order ate eight 'sandwiches'. As she washed down the crackers with a swig of water Vicki was careful not to turn her head to the left. Now that she had herself oriented in the room she knew that the bed was to her left and that on the bed was something—_someone_ she corrected herself—she did not want to see. At least not like this.

The last time she had been in the room with Henry during the day was etched into her memory. She was so worried he might commit suicide by exposing himself to the sun she didn't think to remove herself from the bedroom before dawn. Not sure if indirect light could kill him she had to spend the day with his body. In the instant Henry Fitzroy closed his eyes to the outside world the room became a coffin and Vicki felt buried alive.

That was part of the Mystery about Henry: his ability to blend the past with the present and the normal with the supernatural. Vicki had reminded herself several times that she was not in the heart of a vampire lair but was in fact in an apartment in downtown Toronto but one look at Henry's still form threw every logical thought out the window. Even now she couldn't reconcile the man she laughed with and made love to with the corpse-like figure who was blissfully unaware of the internal turmoil he caused. Vicki frowned. Of course what Henry _was_ wasn't as problematic as what he _did_ in the moment he let Vicki stay with him: he left himself vulnerable to Vicki's whim. She could have dragged him into the living room to combust in the sun or bundled him in blankets and dropped him into Lake Ontario and there was nothing he could have done to stop it. Henry the vampire had stripped himself of all power and presented it to her. She still resented him for that. He had altered their relationship, making the stakes higher and she was too involved to fold. Vicki removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. Since she was stuck here she might as well get some sleep.

"Good night, roomie," she said aloud, in this case to no one but herself.

At some point in the day she heard Celluci in the apartment. Although he paced several times in front of the bedroom door he didn't come in, choosing instead to settle in the living room.

Since the window had been boarded up and caulked the only way Vicki knew it was sundown was when Henry began to stir.

"Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice," Vicki whispered.

It took a moment for the words to register before he chuckled in response. "Showtime," he said in a strained voice. Henry licked his lips as he got his bearings, the Hunger trying desperately to rear its head in the face of Vicki's blood scent. Every beat, every pulse in her body drummed in his head and before he knew it he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed looking at her.

Vicki smirked. "Well I'm happy to see you too but maybe you should get some pants on before Celluci makes this a threesome."

Henry heard the Detective sleeping in the next room. He could see to it that he wouldn't wake up until they were finished.

"Listen Henry, I've spent the day on the floor eating crackers like a Goddamn bird and as much as it'd thrill me to hit the sack with you I'm much more interested in going to the damn bathroom." Vicki got up and walked into the master bathroom.

In spite of himself Henry laughed, his frustration over an aborted meal was overshadowed by his relief at Vicki's restoration to her cranky self. When Vicki came back into the room Henry was in his pajama bottoms and opening the bedroom door. He kept ahead of her and for Vicki's sake turned on every light he encountered. As he went to the telephone to check his messages Vicki bee-lined for Celluci. How he managed to scrunch his six foot four frame onto the couch was beyond her but then again Mike Celluci did a lot of things that surprised her. _He looks tired_. Suddenly she froze.

"Henry, there's no way the demon went after Celluci since it couldn't get to me, right?" she asked.

Henry turned to face her. "I doubt it. Unlike vampires incubi seem to be heterosexual in nature. Of course others say that they can assume female form in order to seduce men but that's not something we're going to even contemplate since it's the last thing we need." Henry cocked his head slightly. "Of course you could just ask him yourself."

Vicki looked down at a grinning Celluci. "Wipe that smudge off your face." Despite the words her tone sounded relieved.

Celluci's smile widened. "Now that's the sunny disposition I've come to know—" _and love_. He sat up. "Good work Fitzroy. Your bit of mumbo jumbo did the trick."

"For one night," Henry replied as he took his habitual position in front of the window. "Somehow I doubt I could convince Vicki to sleep in a consecrated circle for the rest of her life."

"Damn straight," Vicki growled as she went into the kitchen. "So what's the plan? Celluci and I play cards while you do more research?"

"My plan is to first and foremost feed. I need to be at my best and at the moment I find myself distracted." Henry returned to the bedroom.

"I'll bet," Celluci grumbled as he thought of Vicki and Henry together in his room.

Henry laughed. "Actually Detective at this moment your blood is equally attractive."

Celluci's face went red. He didn't like talking about what Henry ate because it further solidified what Henry was and in Celluci's mind 'romance writer' was weird enough. In this regard he marveled at Vicki's ability to keep her head in the presence of demons, werewolves and vampires. That she went on to have an affair with a vampire highlighted a possible need to have her head examined, however.

Emerging from the bedroom dressed in black apparel Henry grabbed his keys from the end table. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Christ, easy as that to find a dinner date?" Celluci marveled.

Henry's eyes glistened. "When I choose to I can make anyone oblige." He turned and was out the door.

Celluci took the comment as the hint it was supposed to be and flushed a deeper red. Sometimes he inadvertently found himself enthralled by Henry's presence and could almost envision himself proffering his neck to the little bastard.

"Let me get you a coffee, Mike," Vicki said to ease the tension. The last thing she needed was to referee the two of them. Celluci stared at the closed front door a second longer then nodded his head.

"Christ I'm getting too old for this," he muttered as he took the mug.

Vicki smiled. "You know what they say, forty is the new thirty."

"Only if you suck at math. Trust me these bones know the difference."

"Same for the metabolism," Vicki quipped as she patted Celluci's stomach.

Although he was in great shape Celluci knew that he had to watch what he was eating if he wanted to maintain his profile. "Get stuffed," he growled as his cell phone rang. He checked the caller id and mouthed _Graham_ to Vicki before answering. "Celluci"

"Holiday's over, partner. We've got another red ball," said Dave.

"Son of a bitch. Where?"

"This one's further down the beaten path. East of Yonge on Queen Street."

Celluci checked his watch. "I'll be there asap."

Vicki read the look of concern on her ex-partner's face. "Go. I'll be fine."

"Fitzroy said he'd only be a few minutes. I'll go when he's back."

"Goddammit I'm not a child," Vicki roared. "Give me some credit here."

"I never said you were. I said you were damn stubborn and sometimes overestimated how tough you really are," he shouted back. "You're human Vicki and this thing is not. Let's not press our luck, alright?"

"Alright," Vicki growled as she folded her arms across her chest. As much as she'd like to argue further she knew Celluci was right. For the same reason her swearing increased when she was stressed she found herself acting more like Clint Eastwood when she was scared. If there was anything she should have learned when she found Henry dying after the demon attack it was that tough didn't always mean tough enough.

XxX

"Jesus Christ what a mess," Dave Graham said aloud. "Someone's gone back to his old M.O. that's for sure."

If he didn't know better Celluci would have agreed. Whereas the previous incubus victims were dispatched with finesse the latest body looked almost identical to the crime scenes left by Norman's demon: the young lady's throat was torn out although there wasn't a drop of blood to be found.

As he worked through the night Celluci puzzled over the change in style. Was the demon angry it couldn't get to Vicki? Was it another creature altogether? _Christ, that's all we need_. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the body and sent it to Fitzroy. Ten minutes later there was a phone call.

"Celluci."

"Detective—Henry here. That's some picture you sent me."

"Hot off the press. Something's obviously changed and I need some advice."

Henry was silent as he thought. "Perhaps our demon was unimpressed with our protective circle and took it out on the poor girl."

"I've had similar thoughts. Hey, this couldn't be another demon could it?"

"_Jesu_ I hope not. Even if it is it'll have to get in line as we've our own problem to deal with first. Speaking of which I need a favor from you. Triskelion Books on Queen West has a book I need called _Ritus Obviam Nox Noctis Everto_. I hope you don't mind I've sent a message along with the order saying you'd pick it up before six p.m.."

"Look more to later than sooner. After we've finished up here it'll be back to the precinct and then home to freshen up. I'll be there as soon as I can or at least drop it off." Celluci hung up and looked towards the crime scene tape barrier where a gaggle of reporters stood. This was not going to be a pleasant morning.

XxX

While he could hear the sound of Vicki's heartbeat the blood scent was not as strong. As Henry came to his senses he realized he was alone in the room. Fearing the worst he jumped out of bed and raced into the living room to find Vicki on the couch going over her notes.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" Henry said angrily.

"You're right, after going out of my mind all day in there why the hell would I leave?" She put down the papers and held her hand out to him. "I've been here no longer than fifteen minutes and I'm fine." Vicki paused and cocked her head as she looked at Henry. "At least I think I am." She stood up and suddenly made to slap his face but he grabbed her wrist."

"What was that for?" Henry asked, now more irritated than angry.

"You're standing out here in your birthday suit so I was just making sure this wasn't another dream sequence," she explained.

Henry's thumb gently rubbed Vicki's wrist. "That would be debatable. It's been a while."

Vicki smirked. "I thought you fed last night."

"Fed the body not the soul." Henry couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, I'm sure this isn't a dream. You look like you're ready to run from the apartment."

"Get stuffed," Vicki mumbled but she didn't move away.

Henry sighed. "I must love you, you know. It's now two days in a row I don't shower upon waking."

"Hey I'm not stopping you."

Henry rolled his eyes. "Like we're even going there."

"Actually, I've got an idea," Vicki said with an impish smile. "Why don't I join you? I'm sure we'll find some way to keep me awake."

Henry practically dragged Vicki into the bathroom.

"So what's the plan?" Vicki said as she dried her hair with a towel. "We trap it and send it on its way like the other demon?"

Henry began to pace in front of the bed. "Not that simple. It has its hooks into you. Anytime you dream about it—"

"It'll be back. Great. So what? Lobotomy? You going to erase my mind?"

He stopped. "I could try," he said seriously, "but that would only guarantee the conscious memory. What you dream is solely up to you."

Vicki tossed Henry the towel which he hung up in the master bathroom. After the shower Henry practically carried her back into the bedroom and into the protective circle. "So far this is adding up to banishing the demon and killing me to make sure it doesn't come back."

"Like that's going to happen," Henry growled.

"If it protects Abby." Vicki said quietly. "It'll go after the girl from the bar."

"I won't see you harmed and I sure as hell am not going to involve myself in any plan that does."

"So I won't send you an invite. Got it."

"_Not_ funny," Henry said darkly.

Vicki sighed as she spiked her hair with her fingers. "Then tell me something that doesn't make this sound so futile. From what I read on the net incubi are sex addicts not savage murderers. Why's this one different?"

Henry shrugged. "I don't know. I've just been assuming it's an incubus because of your students' deaths. Maybe it's something else. I'll have a look."

"Another grimoire? That's some book of the month club. Let me guess Latin again?"

"Old French actually. _Menagerie de Mort_. Ok, let me read for a bit." He left the room.

"Don't mind me. I'll just sit on my ass and do nothing," Vicki muttered to no one in particular.


	11. Chapter 11

"I had a hell of a time getting your book. That Creighton is a real peach," growled Celluci as he entered the apartment. He thrust the book into Henry's hands.

Henry suppressed a smile. "I'm truly sorry for the encounter, especially since it may have been for nothing. Vicki got me thinking about how the demon kills and I may have been too hasty in calling it an incubus."

"So what the hell is it?" Celluci said as both men entered the bedroom. He nodded at Vicki.

"I don't know by name but from its actions it could be a demon that thrives on the imagination," said Henry.

Celluci scoffed. "What are you saying we're battling Freddy Krueger with six pack abs?"

"Something like that," replied Henry as he sat on the bed. "Somehow it was summoned to this place and it lived on the York students' dreams until it latched onto a very public one."

Vicki blanched. "The vampire killer."

"That would explain tonight's body. It looked like a crime photo from Norman's day. So how do we stop it?" asked Celluci.

"We catch the killer," Henry said simply.

"But there is no killer. _It's_ the killer," said Vicki.

Henry smiled grimly. "Norman's demon was the original murderer. This demon just took its place and I will do the same."

Vicki frowned. She did not like the way the conversation was turning. "I'll bite. So how do we do this?"

"The Detective needs to kill me in a public place," Henry said.

"Very funny," said a surprised Celluci.

"The public needs to know it's safe," Henry explained.

"At your expense? No way," Vicki said darkly as she stood up and took two steps before stopping at the circle's edge. "Hell with this." She stepped over the line and began pacing.

Henry ran a hand through his hair. "I'll be perfectly fine so long as the Detective doesn't get overzealous in his pursuit of justice." Celluci grunted.

"Suppose you're recognized? You'll have a nation-wide manhunt," growled Vicki.

"I've eluded others. I'll be fine."

Vicki stopped in front of Henry. "But your apartment. Your books."

Henry grabbed her hands. "They're just things. _You_ are irreplaceable."

Searching his eyes Vicki realized he was completely serious. Henry was willing to throw his life away here in Toronto and spend God knows how long on the run. Instead of being grateful Vicki was pissed. The last thing she'd ever wanted was to put Henry into a situation where his life could be threatened. It was her mess and she'd either clean it or die trying.

"No dice. We need another option." She paused. "Besides, what's to stop the demon from killing while the city comes to grips that the vampire killer is dead?"

"We'd have to trap it in the circle," said Henry, brows furrowing.

Celluci folded his arms. "And how are we going to lure it? Baked cookies?"

"Me," said Vicki. "We'd have to use me."

"No way," snapped Celluci. He looked at Henry who said nothing. "No Goddamn way."

Henry sighed. "I'm afraid any plan we come up with will involve Vicki."

"So there is another plan. Spill it Sherlock," Vicki scowled.

"It's more dangerous," explained Henry.

"Let me decide. I'm tired of being the damn victim."

Henry cocked his head to the right as he debated. Vicki was right; it _was_ her life and both he and Celluci couldn't make the final decision. He looked at Vicki and nodded. "We allow the demon into the circle and then seal it in with you. While you're asleep you'll have to realize you're in a dream and expel the demon from your mind. Then we can exorcise it."

"And how the hell is she supposed to know she's in a dream?" Celluci barked.

Henry shrugged. "I have an idea but I don't know if it'll work."

Celluci leaned dejectedly against the doorframe. "Terrific. So we let the demon have its way with Vicki and _maybe_ we'll kick its ass out of here. Do you know how damn weak this plan is?"

"What about its role as the vampire killer?" Vicki asked softly.

"When the demon is in its own dimension it'll need a personal invitation to transport to Earth. It can't just claim to be the vampire killer and appear. We'd be up to our foreheads in demons if they could simply assume another's identity," Henry explained.

Vicki bit the side of her cheek. "So if we can send it home we break its link to Earth."

"Exactly."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Vicki concluded.

Celluci stood to his full height. "Like hell it does. We still don't have a way to wake you up."

"Let me make a phone call." Henry left the room.

Celluci crossed to stand in front of Vicki. "Are you out of your mind? This is suicide," he roared.

"What the hell else am I supposed to do? Hang out here for the rest of my life while it keeps killing? Would you do that?" Vicki yelled back.

A muscle popped in Celluci's jaw. "Fitzroy'd better have a damn good plan."

In the living room Henry picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Henry what's up?"

"Hello Tony. I need you to come home right away. Vicki needs you."

XxX

Tony got out of the cab in front of the building. This was still a trip for him: an apartment to stay in. Having spent most of his young life on the streets he had had sugar daddies before but no one like Henry—who insisted Tony finish high school. Tony winked as he passed the security guard, who glared in return. Given the neighborhood it wasn't the act that got the old guard's goat but Tony the street riff raff himself. Laughing to himself he entered the elevator and pushed the button for the fourteenth floor. The first time he'd been up this elevator Vicki was telling him about the existence of supernatural creatures and that a vampire needed his help. He started to laugh but understood quickly from the look in her eye that she wasn't kidding. There was a lot of things he'd called 'Victory' Nelson over the years he functioned as her street snitch but gullible wasn't one of them.

While he felt proud to be trusted with the information Tony did admit he was still a little skeptical but all that changed the moment Vicki opened the apartment door to a disheveled interior and an injured young man lying on the couch. Again Tony's mind tried to tell him that this was all a joke but the sense of dire need permeated the room even as Vicki held out a Swiss army knife for him to use on his wrist. As for the feeding itself, well Tony still couldn't explain the euphoria he felt as Henry suckled from his veins. _Hell I still get horny just thinking about it_.

Grinning, Tony exited the elevator and walked down the hall, taking out his keys and opening the apartment door. He heard movement in Henry's room and went to investigate.

"Aw man Victory, what happened to you?" Tony breathed as he saw Vicki lying prone on a pentagram carpet.

"_This_ is our wizard? Christ he looks like Harry Potter," growled Celluci.

"Piss off old man." Tony knew the comment remarked his age not appearance. "Been a while," he said less grumpily. He'd bumped into Celluci a few times when he was with Vicki but he couldn't say he knew enough about the officer to either like or dislike him.

"As you stated earlier we needed a back up plan," Henry said icily.

Celluci pointed a thumb at Tony. "I didn't think you meant a kid. This is serious crap we're dealing with."

Henry folded his arms across his chest. "Tony has been with me for a while. Believe me he can handle it."

"Besides I'm a homeless runaway. No one'll miss me if anything goes wrong," Tony said cheerily to ease the tension in the room. Both men glared darkly at him. "Seriously, let me help Victory. She's saved my ass more times'n I can count."

Celluci pursed his lips as he thought then took off the medallion from around his neck and handed it to Tony. "You'll need this."

Tony almost laughed after he slung it around his neck and took a closer look at the silver disk. The north, south, east and west points had masks cut into the metal so one could see through the slits in the eyes and mouth. Between each mask was a silver crab. "Feel the funk, y'all. You get this out of storage, Henry?"

"The Crowliot amulet is nothing to joke about. Men have murdered to have it in their possession," Henry said briskly. Tony looked down at the amulet, this time with an air of reverence. "Come Tony, I've some spells for you to learn. Detective, let me know if there's any change in Vicki's condition."

Celluci waited for the others to exit before leaning against the wall with a sigh. He always considered himself a man of action and to sit here like a fifth wheel was entirely against his nature. Patience wasn't a virtue either Vicki or him shared. He looked longingly at Vicki as his brows furled. It had taken no more than ten minutes for Vicki to fall asleep after which Henry had erased the part of the pentagram circle that had been drawn in chalk. The bastard did his best to forearm Vicki by strengthening her mind through suggestion but Celluci didn't hold much hope of it working. Considering both men couldn't wake her up when she was in the thralls of the demon he realized the entire plan could be for naught. _What if it's too strong?_ Almost as if in answer Vicki let out a breathy gasp and shifted. Celluci straightened up and approached the circle.

"Vicki?" he asked tentatively. No response. He waited for a few moments then settled back into his former position although he didn't move his eyes off of her. Fitzroy had said the demon was smart so there could only be one kick at the can. Chances are once it realized it was trapped it would kill Vicki outright or use her as a bargaining chip. What to do then? As long as the demon was on Earth Vicki was in danger so it wouldn't matter if it released her now. Then there are all the new victims that would pile up. Vicki wouldn't want that. Hell he wouldn't want that if he were in her place. But he wasn't, even though he'd give anything to change the situation.

Vicki turned her head and let out a soft moan. Celluci came over to her and whispered her name. She frowned slightly before a smile wiped all sign of discontent from her face.

"Henry," she mumbled.

Jaws locked tight, Celluci grabbed Vicki's shoulder and shook her hard but got no reaction. He took the piece of chalk from the bed and connected the circle.

"Fitzroy, we've got it," he growled.

In the living room Henry acknowledged the call before continuing with the task at hand. Some parts of the Latin spell proved difficult for Tony but with practice he was starting to get it. Henry recognized the angelic salutation and wondered if it could be said in English.

"What's that?" Tony asked. "You know I'm not a choir boy."

"Hail Mary."

"Like the pass?"

In spite of himself Henry smiled. "In this case I'm inclined to agree. We really are throwing blind here."

Suddenly Tony was serious. "Henry, what if I screw this up? What if I can't get this right and Victory dies and—"

Henry gently took his hand. "She'll know you'd done your best. That's all you can do, Tony."

Whether it was the feel of his hand or the vampire's gaze Tony felt himself grow calmer. Tentatively he smiled as he slowly let his breath out. "Ok then. Ready when you are."

Henry pointed out the passage and left Tony reciting the words and returned to the bedroom. It pained him to see Vicki this way but one way or the other he knew she'd be rid of the demon.

"So Detective, you say you love Vicki," Henry said evenly. "Time to put that to the test."

Celluci's eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Henry pursed his lips. "You're getting the chance to play hero. Someone's got to go in after her and you're the logical choice."

"Not that I'm shirking but I thought all this magic stuff was up your alley? Why are you giving up the opportunity to kick the demon's ass personally?"

"I can't," Henry said tersely. "The demon lives in the dream world and dreaming is the one thing vampires cannot do. Believe me I would save Vicki myself if I could."

Again Henry's sincerity got to Celluci. "Not saying you wouldn't," he mumbled. "So, what do I have to do?"

"For now we wait. Tony's got to have time to practice as there can be no mistake lest we lose you as well."

"Terrific," Celluci muttered. He looked at Vicki as she groaned. "Hang on kiddo. Cavalry's coming."


	12. Chapter 12

For the third time in forty five minutes Vicki opened her eyes and swore. No matter how relaxed she got she just couldn't seem to fall asleep. If she didn't get to sleep soon someone else was going to die. Needless to say the anxiety wasn't helping her cause. She turned her head to the left and found Henry sitting on the bed looking at her.

"We've got all night if we need it," he said lightly.

"So does the demon," Vicki growled as she lay on her side. "This is so stupid. I'm like a damn kid at Christmas. Maybe a drink would help?"

Henry shook his head. "We need you with all your faculties, Vicki. The demon is very intelligent. It will probably know the plan even as you enter REM sleep."

Vicki rolled onto her back and raised her glasses to her forehead so she could rub her eyes. "Well at least being on the floor's improved my posture although I doubt ritualistic pilates will catch on. So what will we do if I don't sleep?"

"You will eventually," Henry checked the clock. "It's just after eleven. Plenty of time."

"And if I fall asleep at dawn?"

"We'll abort the plan an hour before. We can't afford to have you trapped with it while I'm incapacitated," he said smoothly.

"I'm sure Celluci'd appreciate that. Somehow I can't see him combating the supernatural with a dirty look and he sure as hell isn't a believer in magic. Actually," here she smiled, "I'm amazed he didn't go ballistic when he saw the pentagram. Last year's killings nearly drove him around the bender with all the 'mumbo jumbo'."

Henry cocked his head to the left. "'Mumbo jumbo' indeed. And yet he associates with a vampire."

Vicki sighed. "Well I don't know if he'd say it like that." _More like 'uneasy truce'_.

Henry smiled the smile it took over four hundred and fifty years to perfect. "Well now, let's get you comfortable shall we?" He stepped across the circle and settled down next to Vicki.

"I thought you couldn't be in here," she said, astonished.

Henry laughed. "Of course I can. Do you think I'd let a little thing as a dimensional barrier keep me from you?"

"Hell I can't even keep you out of my apartment when it's locked." She brushed his cool dry cheek with her fingers. "So what are you going to do, 'cloud my mind'?"

"Something like that," Henry said as he leaned over and lay a gentle kiss on her lips. "Now close your eyes."

Vicki could feel her glasses being taken off and smiled inwardly. If stoking her fires was a way of calming her down then Henry was about to put her into a coma. Hell, she thought she could hear music in the background. His light fingers angled her head and she could feel his breath on her neck. Color came to her face as her body warmed to the touch of his tongue as it traced her vein up to her ear.

"You really are delicious," he chuckled. "Virile. Tender. _Mine_."

Vicki's breath caught as she felt his fangs press against her skin. _What the hell?_ She positioned her arms and legs to push Henry off but found she could barely move him.

"_Henry get off_!"

He raised his head until he faced her. "What's wrong? _Jesu_, Vicki you didn't think I would bite you?"

"I don't know what I think at the moment. Just give me some space," Vicki said with a frown. _Something_ was bothering her but she couldn't discern what in particular.

There was a momentary pause and then Henry was away from her on his knees. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Vicki reached over to the table for her glasses then sat up. "Damn it Henry it's not you. I'm too jumpy for this now." She gave him a little smile. "That's some massage therapy course you took."

In spite of himself Henry smiled back. "We could always try hot rocks and incense."

"At this point I'm about ready to try a mud pack if it'll put me out," she growled as she rubbed her neck.

"Well, I was hoping we could do this in a more mutually enjoyable fashion but I guess the old ways are best. Look at me Vicki."

Instinctively she looked at the spot just over his right shoulder. She remembered the pull he had on her will whenever they locked eyes and she was never the one to relinquish control. _It's not about me_. She swallowed and looked into his eyes. Almost immediately she found herself lost in his hazel pools.

"Relax. Let your body go slack. Feel the excess energy draining away through your fingers. Now lie down." Henry helped her onto her back with practiced ease. "I want you to follow my voice as it leads you into the darkness." Here he reached out and took her glasses. Now that she was hooked it didn't matter if she couldn't see him clearly. "You will close your eyes and listen to me. Listen to my voice as it soothes your body. Let

it—"

"Henry," Vicki breathed.

He stopped. "Yes?"

"What's that noise? Sounds mumbley."

"It's the television next door. Don't mind it. Just listen to me."

Vicki sighed, feeling the tension in her body subside. _If he could put this on tape he'd make a fortune_. With each passing second she felt herself nearing the edge of darkness.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "There's someone at the door."

"Next door," Henry assured her. "Don't fight me Vicki. Just sleep."

"Not fighting. Just saying."

Out in the hall Celluci swore a streak in Italian as he threw his shoulder into the door. As the door wasn't metal he assumed he could force it open like he had many others during his years on the force but it wouldn't budge. He didn't even hear a groan from the hinges.

"Vicki! Open the door!" Again his shoulder smashed itself against the unyielding door. "Fitzroy what the hell do I do? I can't get in!" What if he couldn't open the door and Vicki succumbed to the demon? Would he die too? "_Fitzroy!_"

"_Check your pockets,"_ said a whispered voice.

Celluci stopped pounding and looked around the empty hallway. He put a hand in his pockets and pulled out a set of keys.

"Sonofabitch," he growled as he tried key after key in the lock until the tumblers clicked. He pushed open the door and stepped into the inky blackness that was the apartment. Almost immediately he tripped over something soft and slinky and went sprawling. Celluci took a moment on his hands and knees to orient himself in the darkness. He should have fallen against the foyer wall but didn't. He tentatively stretched his arm but couldn't feel anything. "Terrific. Vicki! Vicki can you hear me?" Silence.

As he stood up he noticed a line of light which looked like it emanated from behind a door. "Vicki!" Celluci walked cautiously towards the light but it seemed that no matter how far or fast he walked he got no closer to the elusive beam.

"That's how you want to play it you bastard. Fine. We'll play." He began to run. The light stayed ahead of him. Hoping it would work Celluci closed his eyes and imagined Fitzroy's apartment: the front hallway, the living room, the hall beyond where the bedroo—

He slammed into the door, breaking his nose. "Christ!"

"Mike?" asked Vicki as she opened her eyes. She turned her head as Celluci opened the door and staggered into the room while holding his nose. "What the hell happened to you?" She quickly put on her glasses.

"Get away from her," Celluci snarled at Henry.

"What seems to be the problem, Detective?" Henry said smoothly.

"Vicki he's the demon not Fitzroy."

Henry laughed. "Are you insane? What's wrong with you?"

"Go to hell."

"Shut up the both of you," Vicki roared as she struggled to stand. Henry's relaxation technique took a bit to shake off. "Ok let's start again. Celluci you first."

"You're asleep Vicki. Fitzroy and Tony are in the waking world waiting for us to come home."

"Tony?" Vicki asked. "How the hell did he get involved in this?"

"He isn't. The Detective is full of it." Henry tore his gaze away from Celluci to look at Vicki. "Seriously, does this _feel_ like a dream? If it was I'm sure I'd have gotten past first base with you earlier."

_Am I dreaming?_ Vicki looked around the room. Everything seemed to be in order: the bed and nightstand were in their proper place as were the clock and lamp. She was wearing the same clothes as earlier in the day. Hell she even felt a little hungry. Almost apologetically she shook her head at Celluci.

"Damn it Vicki do you think I'd barge into here saying the crap I'm saying if it wasn't true? You know me better than that." He held out his hand.

"Vicki," Henry warned. "Don't leave the circle. He's trying to lure you out."

Celluci took a deep breath. Getting into a yelling match with the demon wouldn't help matters. "Lure her out to where? Vicki the demon's in your head. Your body's safe with Henry and Tony."

"Just a second. Mike if this is a dream what the hell are you doing here?" Vicki asked.

Knowing he had to make every word count Celluci swallowed hard. "Fitzroy—the real Fitzroy—is linking our minds together. He said he couldn't get you himself because he doesn't dream." He walked towards her. "Vicki I'm here because you know I dream—have dreams about us I haven't been able to say until now because I know you don't want to hear them. I'm forty years old and want to settle down. You've been my partner for four years and my best friend for nearly ten. I love you damn it and I'm sure as hell not going to lose you." He waited.

Henry was waiting. Vicki looked at both men. _Hell even I'm waiting_. She had to choose. One man was lying and she had one chance to guess correctly.

"Get the hell out of here," she yelled at Henry, who smiled in return.

"Not until you're dead, my dear," said Henry evenly. "Although I've an appetizer to consume before the main course."

He launched himself at Celluci, barreling the bigger man into the wall. Celluci quickly threw his forearm up to deflect Henry's bite as the vampire's teeth sought out his neck. A punch to the gut easily broke Celluci's ribs. Gasping for breath Celluci managed to throw Henry off for only an instant before the vampire bounded back. His teeth ripped into Celluci's throat.

"Get out!" Vicki roared. "Both of you get the hell out of here!"

Vicki opened her eyes to see that the room was filled with a reddish vapor.

"Take my hand," Henry shouted. Without thinking Vicki held out her arm and felt herself being yanked clear of the protective circle. Once outside she saw that the vapor was contained within the pentagram. Tony held a large book in his arms and was chanting something in what sounded like Latin. _When the hell'd he learn that?_

"Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum," said Henry as he made the sign of the Cross.

As one Tony and Henry completed the angelic salutation and with a final hurl of magical incantations the vapor seemingly disappeared.

Before Vicki could ask what had happened Henry rushed past her to Celluci's side. The Detective was bleeding from his neck. Hoping he could create enough saliva Henry clamped his mouth to Celluci's wound. After everything that had happened between the two of them Henry'd be damned if he'd let him die. Celluci might be an overbearing pain in the ass but he was an honorable man.

"Fitzroy," Celluci said weakly. "I don't fool around on the first date."

A twinkle in his eye, Henry raised his head to look at Celluci. "Don't worry Detective, I won't kiss and tell."

"How is he?" said Vicki as she put her hand on Celluci's forehead.

Henry gave the wound two frothy licks. "He'll be fine." The flow of blood hadn't been life-threatening although it was more than enough to trigger the Hunger so he had to be careful lest he threaten Celluci's life himself.

"How is this possible? Celluci was attacked in my dream," Vicki asked.

"The rest of his wounds are psychosomatic but the bite is not," Henry explained.

"Yeah but when it was you it bit me and…" Vicki's voice trailed as she looked at the scabbed wound on her wrist.

"Yo Victory, nice to see you up n about," gushed Tony as he returned from the bathroom with a first aid kit. After Henry had been attacked by the demon he thought it prudent to have more than gauze and scissors on hand.

Vicki smiled. "Nice to see you too. You did well, kiddo."

Tony blushed. "Well Henry did most of the work. I just mumbled off a few words here n there."

"Those 'words' allowed me to transport Celluci into Vicki's mind. Don't sell yourself short Tony," admonished Henry while applying antiseptic to Celluci's wound.

"Whatever. We all did our part. Hold hands and sing along. Guess the big guy here gave as good as he got since the fight seemed to wake you up Victory," said Tony.

Vicki laughed aloud. "He was getting his ass handed to him. I tried expelling the demon but couldn't until I kicked both guys out."

Celluci chortled. "Can't stand anyone fighting over you."

"Is there something in the kit to sedate him?" Vicki smirked.

XxX

The more she thought about it the move pissed off Vicki got. Her delicate balance had tipped in Celluci's favor and she didn't like it. Not to say that he was being a deliberate ass; to be honest he really wasn't doing anything more than remaining silent while Vicki tended to him or let a hand linger on hers as a coffee mug was passed. She frowned as she slung her purse over her shoulder. What killed her was the fact she couldn't possibly pay him back for what he did. The wound on his neck told her that he'd risked his life to save her. Every time she looked at him, ran her fingers or tongue over him she'd feel the snarl of skin alongside his throat. _Damn damn damn_.

Vicki quietly let herself out of Celluci's apartment and began to walk towards the bus stop. It was a little later than she had planned so she stuck to where the streetlights shone in order to traverse the street. It was therefore more a matter of instinct when she felt a presence behind her.

"Need a lift?"

"Christ Henry will you quit stalking me like that?" Vicki hissed.

He chuckled. "Vampires don't stalk we shadow. The offer still stands, however."

Vicki took his arm and they made their way to the BMW.

"How is the Detective? As I'm not exactly his favorite person I thought it best to stay away," Henry said as he turned onto Donlands Avenue.

"His ribs hurt and the rest of his body feels run over by a truck but aside from complaining in Italian every time he moves the wrong way I'd say he's on the mend."

"Good."

The car was silent save for the ticking sound of the turn signal as they waited at a red light. Instantly Vicki felt a turn in her gut. _Christ I owe Henry too._

"So how are you?" he asked tentatively.

"Fine," she said gruffly. "You?"

"Never better." Henry smiled in the darkness of the car. He could feel her twisting in the wind and knew she didn't like it.

"So I guess it's safe to say the demon's gone for good. Well for now."

Henry signaled to move around a garbage truck and then resumed his position in the right hand land. "It would seem so. The killings have stopped as have the dreams I take it?"

"Thank Christ. Never did I ever think I'd say 'enough with the sex already'," Vicki laughed.

"How disappointing. I was hoping we could spend some time together this evening," Henry said evenly.

Vicki smirked. "Well there's sex and then there's _sex_. You definitely fit into the second category."

"But of course you respect me for my mind," Henry smirked.

"And what a fine mind you have," Vicki agreed.

Henry was silent for a moment. "You do realize there is more than just sex between us, right?" he said seriously.

"From what you tell me," Vicki replied as she looked out the window into the inky blackness.

Frowning, Henry let the flow of traffic distract him from saying anything he'd later regret.

After a few minutes Vicki couldn't stand the silence. "So how did you put Celluci into my mind? Never knew you could do such a thing."

"I can't; Tony's spell made the transference. I merely submerged the Detective's consciousness to make him more susceptible."

Vicki was relieved. "Nice to know you can't just send the cavalry whenever you feel like it."

Henry turned left onto Spadina and drove until he found his usual side street and put the car into park. He left his hand on the key after turning off the engine.

"I would have come for you if I could," he said quietly.

"I know."

"I love you, Vicki."

She frowned. "Why do you have to define what we are?"

"Because I need to know. Call me old fashioned," Henry said angrily. "Vicki you've changed my life. Seriously," he said as she rolled her eyes. "I thought myself modernized with my apartment and career but you've shown me how to be _alive_. I can never thank you enough."

"Hallmark has an entire line for that."

He looked at her. "Why won't you let me in?" he whispered.

Although she couldn't see his face she returned the stare before shaking her head. "Shit Henry, what makes you think you aren't?" Vicki said as she got out of the car.

Henry was too stunned to move. It wasn't the out and out 'I love you' he was looking for but he'd take it. Smiling, he exited the vehicle and offered his arm. There was no hesitation on her part as she took it and together they walked to her building.

XxX

**Author's Note:** Tony becomes more familiar in the black arts in Tanya Huff's 'Smoke' series. Before you ask, yes Henry appears in them too. (o:

Thus ends story two. Hope you liked it as I'm planning to write another one. God help us. (o: I'm trying for a longer tale but eh, we'll see. Thanks again for reading. ~Lynn


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